3.  5/.  o^. 

Srom  f^e  £i6rari?  of 
(()rofe05or  nTimam  (gitfPer  (paxton,  ®.®.,  &&.©. 

to  t^e  feifirarg  of 
(Princeton  S^eofogicotf  ^eminarg 


^crc 


/^= 


^'     J/l€y/Z^a^e(^ 


SERMONS 


BT   THE   LATE 


REV.    GEORGE    SHEPARD, 

PROFESSOR  IN  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY,   BANGOR,   ME. 


"ma^  a  iHein0rtaI 
Br   PROF.   D.    S.   TALCOTT. 


BOSTON: 
NICHOLS     AND     NOYES. 

1869. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

NICHOLS      AND      NO  YES, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE : 
PRESS  OB'  JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON. 


CONTENTS. 


MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 


FAOB 


We  having  the  same  spirit  of  faith,  according  as  it  is 
written,  I  believed,  and  therefore  have  I  spoken  ;  we 
also  believe,  and  therefore  speak.  —  2  CoR.  iv.  13  .     .      xiii 

I. 

PREACHING  TO    THE   MASSES. 
But  we  pi-each  Christ  crucified.  —  1  CoR.  i.  23    .     .     .         1 

II. 

THE  DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING. 

For  lam  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ:  for  it 
is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that 
believeih ;  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek.  — 
Rom.  i.  16 15 

III. 

THE  ECLIPSED  LUMINARY. 

If  therefore,  the  light  that  is  in  thee  be  darkness,  how 
qreat  is  that  darkness  !  —  IMatt.  vi.  23 28 


IV  CONTENTS. 

TV. 

SALVATION  IN  NO   OTHER. 


PAGE 


Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other  :  for  there  is  none 
other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men  whereby 
we  must  be  saved. — Acts  iv.  12 43 

Y. 

THE   SHIPWRECK   OF   PAUL. 

And  now  1  exhort  you  to  be  of  good  cheer :  for  there 
shall  be  no  loss  of  any  man's  life  among  you,  but  of 
the  ship.  Paul  said  to  the  centurion  and  to  the  sol- 
diers, Except  these  abide  in  the  ship,  ye  cannot  be 
saved.  —  Acts  xxvii.  22,  31 53 

YI. 

ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITE. 

And  Elijah  the  Tishhite,  who  was  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Gilead,  said  unto  Ahab,  As  the  Lord  God  of  Israel 
liveth,  before  whom  I  stand,  there  shall  not  be  dew 
noi'  rain  these  years,  but  according  to  my  word.  —  1 
Kings  xvii.  1 65 

YII. 

SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN  PIETY. 
Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets  ? —  1  Sam.  x.  11     .     .       78 

YIII. 

CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

But  my  servant  Caleb,  because  he  had  another  spirit  with 
him,  and  hath  followed  me  filly,  him  will  I  bring 
into  the  land  whereunto  he  went ;  and  his  seed  shall 
possess  it.  —  Num.  xiv.  24 89 


CONTENTS. 


IX. 


THOSE    LOOKING    BACK    NOT   FIT   FOR   THE 
KINGDOM. 

PAQK 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  No  man,  having  put  his  hand 
to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  jit  for  the  kingdom 
of  God.  —  Luke  ix.  62 99 


THE   GIVER;   OR,   THE   TWO   MITES. 

And  Jesus  sat  over  against  the  treasury,  and  beheld 
how  the  people  cast  money  into  the  treasury :  and 
many  that  were  rich  cast  in  much.  And  there  came 
a  certain  poor  widotv,  and  she  threw  in  two  mites, 
which  make  a  farthing.  And  he  called  unto  him  his 
disciples,  and  saith  unto  them,  Verily  I  say  unto  you. 
That  this  poor  widow  hath  cast  more  in  than  all 
they  which  have  cast  into  the  treasury :  for  all  they 
did  cast  in  of  their  abundance  ;  but  she  of  her  want 
did  cast  in  all  that  she  had,  even  all  her  living.  — 
Mark  xii.  41-44 110 

XI. 

THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING. 

JBut  rather  give  alms  of  such  things  as  ye  have  ;  and, 

behold,  all  things  are  clean  unto  you.  —  Luke  xi.  41     122 

XII. 

DOERS  OF  THE  WORD,  AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY. 

Sut  be  ye  doers  of  the  ivord,  and  not  hearers  only,  de- 
ceiving your  own  selves. —  James  i.  22 143 


VI  CONTENTS. 

XIII. 
JUSTIFICATION  BY   WORKS. 

PAGK 

Ye  see  then  hoio  that  hy  ivorks  a  man  is  justified,  and 
not  hy  faith  only. — James  ii.  24 153 

XIY. 

CONFESSION   OF   SIN. 

But  if  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  he  is  in  the  light,  we  have 
fellowship  one  with  another,  and  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.  If  we  say 
that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth 
is  not  in  us.  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful 
and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from 
all  unrighteousness.  If  we  say  that  we  have  not 
sinned,  we  make  him  a  liar,  and  his  word  is  not  in 
us.  —  1  John  i.  7-10 165 

XY. 

AND   YE   WILL  NOT   COME  TO   ME. 

And  ye  will  not  come  to  me,  that  ye  might  have  life.  — 
John  v.  40 176 

XVI. 

ESCAPE  FOR   THY  LIFE. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  they  had  brought  them  forth 
abroad,  that  he  said,  Escape  for  thy  life  ;  look  not  he- 
hind  thee,  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  plain  ;  escape  to 
the  mountain,  lest  thou  be  consumed.  —  Gen.  xix.  17.     187 


CONTENTS.  Vii 

XYII. 

THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

PAGE 

In  %vhom  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  minds 
of  them  which  believe  not,  lest  the  light  of  the  glo- 
rious gospel  of  Christ,  who  is  the  image  of  God,  should 
shine  unto  them.  —  2  CoR.  iv.  4 197 

XYIII. 

THE   DEATH   OF  ELISHA. 

Noiv  Elisha  was  fallen  sick  of  his  sickness  whereof 
he  died.  And  Joush  the  king  of  Israel  came  down 
unto  him,  and  wept  over  his  face,  and  said,  0  my 
father,  my  father!  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the 
horsemen  thereof!  —  2  Kings  xiii.  14 219 

XIX. 

THE   SON    OF    MAN  IS   COME    TO    SEEK    AND   TO 
SAVE. 

For  the  Son  of  man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
which  was  lost.  —  Luke  xix.  10 228 

XX. 

THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST. 

And  the  Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,  (and 
we  beheld  his  glory,  the  glory  as  of  the  only  begotten 
of  the  Father,)  full  of  grace  and  truth.  —  John  i.  14.      238 


Vni  CONTENTS. 


XXI. 


SEEK    FIRST  THE    KINGDOM   OF   GOD  AND   HIS 
RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

PAGE 

But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  Ms  righteous- 
ness ;  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you. 
—  Matt.  vi.  33 250 

XXII. 

CHRIST'S  BODILY  AND   SPIRITUAL   HEALINGS. 

And  again  he  entered  into  Capernaum  after  some  days  ; 
and  it  was  noised  that  he  ivas  in  the  house.  And 
straightway  many  were  gathered  together,  insomuch 
that  there  was  no  room  to  receive  them,  no,  not  so 
much  as  about  the  door :  and  he  preached  the  word 
unto  them.  And  they  come  unto  him,  bringing  one 
sick  of  the  palsy,  which  was  borne  of  four.  And 
when  they  could  not  come  nigh  unto  him  for  the 
press,  they  uncovered  the  roof  where  he  was:  and  when 
they  had  broken  it  up,  they  let  down  the  bed  wherein 
the  sick  of  the  palsy  lay.  Wlien  Jesus  saw  their  faith, 
he  said  unto  the  sick  of  the  palsy.  Son,  thy  sins  be 
forgiven  thee.  But  there  were  certain  of  the  scribes 
sitting  there,  and  reasoning  in  their  hearts,  Why  doth 
this  man  thus  speak  blasphemies  ?  Who  can  forgive 
sins  but  God  only  ?  And  immediately  when  Jesus 
•perceived  in  his  spirit  that  they  so  reasoned  within 
themselves,  he  said  unto  them.  Why  reason  ye  these 
things  in  your  hearts  ?  WJiether  is  it  easier  to  say  to 
the  sick  of  the  palsy.  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  ;  or  to 
say,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk"?  But 
that  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath  power  on 


CONTENTS.  IX 

PAGE 

earth  to  forgive  sins,  (he  saith  to  the  sick  of  the  palsi/,) 
I  say  unto  thee,  Arise,  and  take  iiji  thy  bed,  and  go  thy 
way  into  thine  house.  And  immediately  he  arose,  took 
wp  the  bed,  and  went  forth  before  than  all ;  insomuch 
that  they  ivere  all  amazed,  and  glorified  God,  saying, 
We  never  saw  it  on  this  fashion.  —  Mark  ii.  1-12    .     260 

XXIII. 

HELP   THOU  MINE   UNBELIEF. 

And  straightioay  the  father  of  the  child  cried  out,  and 
said  with  tears,  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  un- 
belief—  Mark  ix.  24 271 

XXIY. 

THE   UNWRITTEN   OF  LIFE. 

And  there  are  also  many  other  things  which  Jesus 
did,  the  which,  if  they  shoidd  be  written  every  07ie, 
I  suppose  that  even  the  world  itself  coidd  not  contain 
the  books  that  should  be  written.  Amen.  —  John 
xxi.  25 282 

XXV. 

THE  END   AT   HAND. 

But  the  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand:  be  ye  therefore 
sober ^  and  watch  unto  prayer. —  1  Pet.  iv.  7  .     .     .     292 

XXYI. 

CHRIST'S   COMINGS. 

But  as  the  days  of  Noe  were,  so  shall  also  the  coming 
of  the  So7i  of  man  be.     For  as  in  the  days  that  were 


i 


X  CONTENTS. 

PAQB 

before  the  flood  they  were  eating  and  drinking^  mar- 
rying and  giving  in  marriage,  until  the  day  that  Noe 
entered  into  the  ark,  and  knew  not  until  the  flood 
came,  and  took  them  all  away:  so  shall  also  the 
coming  of  the  Son  of  man  he.  —  Matt.  xxiv.  37-39     305 

XXVII. 

DEATH  ABOLISHED. 
Who  hath  abolished  death. — 2  Tui.  i.  10 315 

XXVIII. 

SPIRITUAL   BODY. 

So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is  sown  in 
corruption  ;  it  is  raised  in  incorruption :  it  is  sown 
in  dishonor ;  it  is  raised  in  glory :  it  is  sown  in 
weakness  ;  it  is  raised  in  power :  it  is  sown  a  natu- 
ral body ;  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body.  There  is  a 
natural  body,  and  there  is  a  spiritual  body.  —  1 
Cor.  XV.  42-44 325 

XXIX. 

ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT. 

To  me  belongeth  vengeance,  and  recompense.  —  Deut. 
xxxii.  35.  Tliese  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  pun- 
ishment :  but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal.  —  Matt. 
XXV.  46 337 

XXX. 

HEAVEN. 

And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth :  for  the 
flrst  heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away  ;  and 


CONTENTS.  xi 

there  was  no  more  sea.  And  I  John  saw  the  Holy 
City,  new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  from  God  out  of 
heaven,  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband. 
And  I  heard  a  great  voice  out  of  heaven,  saying, 
Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,  and  he 
will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his  people,  and 
God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their  God. 
—  Rev.  xxi.  1-3 34.7 

XXXI. 

THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

For  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are 
not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall 
he  revealed  in  us.  —  Rom.  viii.  18 357 


MEMOEIAL   DISCOUKSE. 


We  having  the  same  spirit  of  faith,  according  as  it  is  written, 
I  believed,  and  therefore  have  I  spohen  ;  we  also  believe,  and 
therefore  speak.  —  2  Cor.  iv.  13. 

TT  was  the  lamentation  of  one  of  old,  and  a  lamen- 
-^  tation  strikingly  indicative  of  having  fallen  upon 
evil  times,  "  The  righteous  perisheth,  and  no  man 
layeth  it  to  heart."  When  a  servant  of  God,  who  has 
been  honored  in  being  allowed  to  exert  a  mighty  and 
conspicuous  influence  for  good  among  the  men  of  his 
generation,  rests  from  his  labors,  it  is  a  debt  which 
survivors  owe,  not  so  much  to  his  own  memory  as  to 
the  grace  which  made  him  what  he  was,  to  see  to  it, 
that,  while  those  labors  are  not  forgotten  or  passed 
lightly  by,  the  qualities  by  which  the  great  results 
have  been  achieved  should  be  in  some  measure  appre- 
ciated ;  so  that  not  only  may  the  desire  be  stimulated 
in  others  to  pursue  a  course  of  like  beneficence,  but 
something  be  also  done  to  show  how  the  aspiration 
may  be  carried  out  to  a  practical  and  blessed  end. 

In  attempting  to  trace  the  outlines  of  a  character 
and  a  course  of  life  thus  calling  for  special  commemo- 
ration, we  naturally  seek  some  point  around  which  all 
that  is  most  essential  and  distinctive  may  be  grouped ; 


xiv  MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE. 

some  principle  which  may  serve  as  a  key  to  explain 
the  too  rare  phenomenon  of  a  life  greatly  beneficent, 
and  which,  developed  elsewhere,  may  afford  a  reasona- 
ble promise  of  the  bright  example  being  exhibited 
again. 

The  words  of  the  text  have  been  selected  with  no 
special  reference  to  the  direct  application  originally 
made  of  them  by  the  apostle,  but  as  conveying,  when 
taken  in  their  most  general  acceptation,  a  thought 
which  was  very  signally  realized  in  the  life  and  labors 
of  Professor  Shepard,  and  the  realization  of  which  was 
emphatically  central  among  all  the  elements  which 
constituted  his  high  pre-eminence  as  a  preacher  of 
righteousness. 

George  Shepard  was  born  at  Plainfield,  Conn., 
Aug.  26,  1801.  Of  the  earlier  circumstances  which 
contributed  to  the  formation  of  his  character,  we 
have  only  a  scanty  record.  One  fact  we  are  assured 
of,  that  is  full  of  interest ;  that  in  his  case,  as  in  that 
of  so  many  whose  memory  is  fondly  cherished  in 
the  Church,  the  foundations  of  usefulness  were  laid  in 
the  instructions  and  the  prayers  of  a  pious  mother. 
His  father  owned  a  small  farm,  and  the  years  of  his 
minority  were  largely  spent  in  farming  operations.  His 
aptitude  and  inclination  for  intellectual  pursuits  were 
developed  at  an  early  age.  At  the  district  school, 
as  we  are  told,  "  he  was  a  good  scholar  in  all  the 
branches  ;  while  in  arithmetic  he  distanced  all  compet- 
itors, and  yet  was  so  unassuming  and  modest  as  to 
disarm  envy  and  jealousy."  We  are  further  told  "  that 
it  was  the  custom  of  the  minister.  Dr.  Benedict,  to 
visit  the  school  on  Saturday  afternoons,  and  exam- 
ine the  pupils  in  the  catechism ;  and  this"  it  is  added, 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XV 

"  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  commencement  of  his 
theological  studies."  With  a  view  to  qualify  himself 
for  a  school-teacher,  he  entered  the  academy  in  his 
native  place.  His  weekly  compositions,  prepared 
while  connected  with  this  institution,  are  characterized, 
by  one  who  was  a  fellow-student  with  him  there,  as 
"  containing  more  ideas  than  were  commonly  embraced 
in  such  efforts,  expressed  in  a  strong,  vigorous,  though 
somewhat  sonorous  style,  after  the  Johnsonian  model.''^ 
Meanwhile  his  leisure  hours  were  assiduously  employed 
in  reading  the  old  English  authors,  of  whose  works 
there  was  a  considerable  collection  at  his  command. 
Up  to  the  year  1819,  there  is  no  evidence  of  his  hav- 
ing been  the  subject  of  any  special  religious  impres- 
sions. His  childhood  and  youth,  however,  had  been 
singularly  stainless.  "  He  was  always,"  as  we  learn 
from  those  qualified  to  testify  upon  this  point,  "  a  good 
boy.  As  a  son,  he  was  always  dutiful ;  as  a  brother, 
affectionate ;  as  a  friend,  warm-hearted  and  true." 
But  during  a  revival  of  religion  which  was  experienced 
in  Plainfield  in  the  year  1819,  under  the  preaching  of 
Rev.  Orin  Fowler,  young  Shepard  was  made,  as  he  be- 
lieved, a  subject  of  renewing  grace.  There  is  no  ac- 
count in  existence,  so  far  as  known,  of  the  exercises 
of  his  mind  at  this  period ;  but  it  is  recollected  that  in 
the  narrative,  characteristically  brief,  which  he  gave  of 
his  experience,  at  the  time  he  made  a  profession  of  re- 
ligion. May  7, 1820,  he  expressed  deep  conviction  of  his 
own  guilt  as  a  sinner,  and  of  the  power  and  readiness 
of  Christ  to  save,  and  a  humble  purpose  to  live  de- 
voted to  his  service.  The  young  convert  was  soon 
subjected  to  a  severe  trial.  He  felt  it  to  be  his  duty 
to  give  himself  to  the  work  of  the  gospel  ministry. 


Xvi  MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  , 

But  his  father,  who  had  no  sympathy  with  his  religious 
views,  strenuously  opposed  the  plan.  He  assured  his 
father,  however,  that  while  he  was  willing  to  remain 
with  him,  as  in  duty  bound,  up  to  the  age  of  twenty- 
one,  it  was  his  full  determination  to  enter  then  upon 
a  course  of  classical  study.  His  mother,  who  was  a 
w^oman  of  great  gentleness  of  character,  did  all  she 
could  to  promote  his  views  ;  and  as  he  entered  Amherst 
College  a  year  in  advance,  in  the  fall  of  1821,  his 
father's  opposition  must  have  been  in  some  meas- 
ure withdrawn.  But  his  intellectual  preparation  for 
the  ministry  was  gained  by  various  and  hard  toil; 
and  the  recollection  of  his  own  experience  in  this  re- 
gard, doubtless,  bore  an  important  part  in  making  him, 
through  life,  the  earnest  and  untiring  advocate  of  the 
Education  Society. 

Soon  after  leaving  college  he  became  connected 
with  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Andover,  where  he 
graduated  in  1827.  The  intentness  and  success  with 
which  his  studies  here  were  prosecuted  may  be  inferred 
from  the  circumstance,  that  he  was  urged  by  Pro- 
fessor Stuart  to  remain  in  the  seminary  as  Assistant 
Instructor  in  Hebrew.  This  invitation  he  declined,  and 
accepted  a  call  from  the  First  Congregational  Church 
in  Hallowell,  Me.,  where  he  was  ordained  Feb. 
5,  1828.  Here  was  demand  at  once  for  the  exercise 
of  all  his  powers.  Hallowell  was  at  that  time  the  cen- 
tre of  an  extensive  and  flourishing  business,  and  prob- 
ably few  places  in  the  country  of  like  size  have  ever 
contained  so  large  an  amount  of  intelligence  and  men- 
tal cultivation  as  were  here  concentrated.  It  was 
soon  found,  that,  in  the  person  of  the  young  pastor, 
a  power  of  no  common  magnitude  was  abroad  in  the 


MEMORIAL    DISCOURSE.  XVll 

community.  His  unaffected  kindliness  of  spirit,  his 
fervent,  single-hearted  piety,  his  untiring  devotion 
to  his  work,  combined  with  his  commanding  eloquence, 
gained  for  him  an  influence  among  men  of  all  classes, 
more  nearly  resembling  that  possessed  by  some  of  the 
old  Puritan  pastors  in  colonial  times  than  any  thing 
that  these  modern  days  have  often  witnessed.  In  the 
few  years  of  his  pastorate,  ties  were  formed  which 
would  have  effectually  prevented  his  listening  to  any  or- 
dinary solicitation  to  settle  elsewhere.  But  when,  in 
1836,  the  trustees  of  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Ban- 
gor, then  entering  upon  a  new  stage  of  its  history,  and 
one  which  opened  a  prospect  of  greatly  extended  influ- 
ence and  usefulness,  fixed  upon  Mr.  Shepard  as  the 
most  eligible  candidate  for  the  professorship  of  Sacred 
Rhetoric,  he  felt  at  once  that  it  was  not  a  call  to  be 
lightly  set  aside  ;  while  tiie  acknowledged  importance  of 
the  work  to  which  he  was  invited,  and  his  own  singular 
fitness  for  it,  went  far  with  a  people  that  had  been 
trained  to  take  large  views  of  things,  towards  subdu- 
ing the  repugnance  naturally  awakened  in  view  of  the 
proposed  surrender  of  so  highly  prized  a  treasure. 
And  the  sacrifice  demanded  of  them  was  rendered 
still  less  painful  than  it  would  otherwise  have  been,  by 
the  assurance  which  he  gave,  tliat  it  was  Ins  fixed 
intention  never  to  leave  the  work  iipon  which  he  was 
now  entering,  in  order  to  become  the  pastor  of  another 
congregation,  unless  constrained  by  providential  indi- 
cations which  could  not  be  mistaken. 

He  came  to  Bangor.  He  gave  to  the  seminary  the 
labor  of  his  life.  In  connection,  indeed,  with  his 
duties  in  the  seminary,  he  discharged,  for  a  number  of 
years,  the  duties  of  preacher  and  pastor  to  tlie  Central 

6 


XVlll  MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 

Church  ill  this  city,  which  came  into  existence  mainly 
through  his  agency,  and  was  built  up  into  strength 
and  efficiency  by  the  blessing  of  God  upon  his  labors. 
From  time  to  time,  also,  he  lectured,  and  performed 
other  duties  pertaining  to  the  department  of  Sacred 
Rhetoric  at  various  theological  seminaries,  where  the 
stated  provision  for  instruction  in  Homiletics  liad  tem- 
porarily failed.  But  our  own  seminary  continued  to 
enjoy  the  benefit  of  his  services  to  the  last.  The 
promise  he  gave  his  people  upon  leaving  them  was  not 
an  ill-considered  promise,  and  it  was  faithfully  re- 
deemed. Nor  was  it  at  a  trifling  expense  to  himself 
that  he  redeemed  it.  Repeatedly  was  he  solicited,  by 
tempting  offers  from  abroad,  to  leave  his  post.  Tlieo- 
logical  professorships  elsewhere  were  urged  upon  him. 
Overtures  were  made  to  him,  on  two  different  occasions, 
to  accept  the  presidency  of  Amherst  College.  The 
Church  of  the  Pilgrims  in  Brooklyn,  N.Y.,  and  the 
Mercer-street  Church  in  New-York  City,  sought  him 
for  their  pastor,  and  held  out  pecuniary  inducements, 
which,  especially  at  the  time  they  were  presented,  it 
must  have  cost  some  effort  to  resist.  All  these  invita- 
tions he  declined,  upon  the  ground,  as  he  himself  ex- 
pressed it,  that  his  work  here  was  not  done.  That 
work  he  kept  on  doing  for  nearly  thirty-two  years.  At 
length,  on  the  morning  of  March  23,  1868,  it  was 
decided,  by  One  from  whose  decision  there  was  no 
appeal,  that  the  work  was  done.  Just  how  well  it 
was  done,  the  Great  Taskmaster  only  is  fully  able  to 
decide.  But  it  involves  no  invasion  of  the  divine  pre- 
rogative of  judgment,  to  imagine  that  we  hear,  as  the 
toil  worn  laborer  emerges  into  that  dread  yet  loved 
and  longed-for  Presence,  some  faint  echoes  of  the  plau- 


MEMOEIAL   DISCOURSE.  XIX 

dit,  itself  an  infinite  reward,  "Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant :  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord." 

It  is  a  small  thing,  our  brother  Avould  say,  for  me  to 
be  judged  of  man's  judgment.  Yet  man  will  judge. 
In  a  sense,  it  is  right,  and  it  is  necessary,  that  man 
sJiould  judge.  In  the  case  of  Professor  Shepard,  man 
has  judged,  and  therefore  it  is  that  we  are  here  to-day. 

Were  it  proposed,  on  this  occasion,  to  institute  a 
minute  inquiry  into  all  the  elements  of  that  power 
which  Professor  Shepard  wielded  in  the  pulpit,  and 
which  gave  him  for  so  many  years  in  general  estima- 
tion so  high  a  place  in  the  first  class  of  living  preachers, 
it  would  be  necessary  to  attempt,  at  least,  a  perfect 
analysis  of  the  man  himself.  In  many  cases,  where 
great  success  has  been  achieved  in  any  line  of  intellec- 
tual effort,  the  task  of  the  critic  is  comparatively  easy. 
The  results  accomplished  are  plainly  seen  to  be  attribut- 
able to  one  or  two  leading  circumstances,  a  few  at  most ; 
some  one  peculiarly  felicitous  endowment,  physical, 
moral,  or  intellectual ;  some  special  course  of  training, 
some  signal  opportunity,  some  urgent  motive  acciden- 
tally brought  to  bear,  some  constraining  necessity  aris- 
ing, of  such  a  nature  as  almost  to  create  the  very  power 
which  it  propelled  and  guided.  There  are  often  various 
drawbacks  to  be  allowed  for,  arising  from  conflicting 
impulses,  a  divided  style  of  effort,  conspicuous  defi- 
ciencies almost  counterbalancing  great  endowments ; 
and  the  inquiry  is  continually  suggested,  in  view  of 
what  was  actually  done,  How  much  more  might  have 
been  accomplished,  had  there  been  a  more  harmonious 
combination  of  natural  endowments,  more  of  unifor- 
mity in  their  development,  or  of  concentrated  vigor  in 
their  application  ?     But  in  the  case  of  Professor  Shep- 


XX  MEMOEIAL    DISCOURSE. 

ard,  while  there  was  a  remarkable  concurrence  of  cer- 
tain of  the  most  widely  different  elements  of  power, 
there  were  no  signal  deficiencies.  What,  indeed,  in 
most  men  are  elements  of  weakness,  appeared  some- 
times, with  him,  to  minister  to  strength.  And  it  would 
be  very  difficult  to  suggest  any  material  modification 
or  .re-arrangement  of  the  elements  of  his  character, 
that  would  have  been  likely  to  contribute  essentially  to 
his  advancement  in  his  own  peculiar  line  of  excellence. 
The  chief  spring,  however,  of  the  power  so  remarkably 
constituted  and  employed,  lay,  it  may  be  affirmed  with 
confidence,  in  the  practical  and  all-pervading  ascendency 
o^  faith.  "  I  believed,  therefore  have  I  spoken,"  is  the 
key  which  admits  us  to  the  interior  of  that  life  so  dis- 
tinguished by  the  beneficent  influence  which  it  exerted 
upon  the  characters  and  lives  of  others.  Had  Profes- 
sor Shepard  never  come  under  the  controlling  influence 
of  Christian  faith,  he  wonld  even  then  have  been  a  man 
out  of  the  common  course.  With  a  mind  strongly  dis- 
posed to  thoughtfulness,  and  with  natural  sensibilities 
deep,  warm,  and  comprehensive,  to  a  degree  not  often 
met  with,  he  would  have  been,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, distinguished  as  a  kind  neighbor,  a  good  citi- 
zen, a  wise  and  safe  counsellor,  a  man  of  active  and 
self-denying  benevolence,  the  object  of  general  confi- 
dence and  love.  With  more  of  natural  conscientious- 
ness than  most  men,  he  would  have  found  it  hard  to 
take  any  but  the  right  side  on  any  great  moral  ques- 
tion. It  would  always  have  been  known  where  he 
stood.  His  reasons  would  have  been  known,  and  they 
would  have  had  weight  with  others.  His  retiring  dis- 
position might  have  kept  him  in  the  shade ;  but,  had 
any  special  emergency  compelled  him  into  public  life, 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXI 

he  would  have  stood  forth  a  bold  and  strong  defender 
of  the  weak  and  the  oppressed.  There  was  much  in 
his  natural  constitution  that  fitted  him  to  be  a  reformer. 
Perhaps  not  easily  aroused,  when  once  aroused  it  was 
to  effective  and  persistent  action.  While  he  was_  not 
remarkable  for  rapidity  in  his  intellectual  operations, 
the  truth  once  seen  was  seen  clearly,  and  seen  once  for 
all,  and  became  henceforth  a  part  of  himself.  It  was 
in  his  nature  to  be  deliberate.  Hence  it  was,  that 
judgments  once  formed  were  not  easily  laid  aside  ;  and, 
so  long  as  acknowledged  in  form,  they  were  not  likely 
to  be  overruled  by  momentary  impulse.  Sucli  a  nature 
furnished  good  material  for  divine  truth  to  act  upon. 
In  the  absence  of  all  direct  testimony  upon  the  subject, 
the  character  of  his  own  religious  experience  may  be 
satisfactorily  inferred  from  the  whole  character  of  his 
preaching.  It  must  have  been  an  experience  which 
took  firm  hold  upon  all  the  leading  truths  of  the  Chris- 
tian system,  and  reached  to  the  very  depths  of  his 
spiritual  being.  Every  thing  goes  to  show  that  there 
must  have  been  the  deepest  conviction  of  the  exceeding 
sinfulness  of  sin,  of  the  greatness  of  the  ruin  which  sin 
works,  and  of  his  own  personal  participation  in  that 
ruin.  Thus  was  he  prepared  to  receive,  with  the  most 
implicit  confidence,  all  that  the  Bible  teaches  of  the 
glory  of  the  Great  Deliverer,  and  of  the  completeness 
of  his  salvation.  These  became  to  him  realities,  liv- 
ing, mighty,  ever  present.  Not  only  was  his  own  life 
habitually  yielded  to  their  power,  but  his  convictions 
respecting  them  he  must  impart  to  others  perishing 
for  lack  of  knowledge.  His  whole  manner  of  speaking 
betokened  a  man  thoroughly  in  earnest.  His  words 
were  plain,  direct,  graphic,  strong.     The  things  that 


XXll  MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 

he  had  to  announce  were  things  that  he  had  seen.  Ho 
had  looked  upon  them  as  if  no  one  had  ever  looked 
upon  them  before,  and  he  told  of  them  as  if  no  one  had 
ever  told  of  them  before.  If  he  used  the  same  words, 
in  speaking  of  these  things,  that  others  had  employed 
before  him,  it  was  not  that  he  had  taken  the  words 
from  others,  but  just  because  they  were  the  best  words, 
the  most  expressive  words,  to  set  forth  the  things  them- 
selves. I  need  not  say  that  bis  style  of  expression  was 
peculiar  to  himself.  He  wrote  an  article  for  the  press, 
occasionally,  to  be  published  without  his  name.  But 
it  was  all  the  same  as  if  his  name  had  been  attached. 
No  one  familiar  with  his  manner,  and  possessing  any 
power  of  discernment,  could  read  a  page  of  his  writing 
and  remain  in  doubt  as  to  the  author.  Yet  no  man 
was  ever  more  free  from  affectation  of  singularity.  All 
that  was  peculiar  in  his  style  was  simply  the  result  of 
a  strenuous  and  single  purpose  to  make  others  see 
what  he  saw,  and  feel  what  he  felt,  combined  as  this 
purpose  was  with  the  speaker's  mastery  of  language, 
and  the  common  sense,  the  knowledge  of  mankind, 
which  taught  him  to  employ  that  mastery  to  the  best 
advantage  for  the  end  he  had  in  view.  Professor 
Shepard's  theory  of  the  style  appropriate  to  the  pulpit 
was  very  clearly  defined ;  and,  in  his  own  style,  his 
theory  was  well  illustrated.  And  yet  it  is  felt  by  every 
reader,  much  more  was  it  felt  by  every  hearer,  of  his 
sermons,  that  he  had  but  little,  if  any,  conscious  refer- 
ence to  theory  in  the  composition  of  them.  There  is 
nothing  in  his  style  that  has  the  look,  at  least  to  one 
acquainted  with  the  man,  of  being  artificial  or  made 
up.  He  attached  great  importance,  in  theory,  to 
strength  of  expression ;  but  he  used  strong  language 


MEMOEIAL  DISCOURSE.  XXIU 

himself,  because  tlie  strength  of  emotion  which  im- 
pelled him  spontaneously  suggested  it.  Commonplace 
was  his  aversion ;  but,  in  rejecting  a  commonplace  ex- 
pression, he  was  guided  by  the  instinctive  feeling  that 
it  was  wholly  inadequate  to  convey  his  meaning.  The 
word  that  he  rejected  might  be,  as  defined  in  diction- 
aries, the  exact  equivalent  of  that  he  chose :  but  the 
one  carried  its  meaning  as  a  dead  burden ;  the  other, 
winged,  penetrating,  pregnant  with  suggestion,  was  a 
living  force,  a  servant  that  knew  his  master's  will  and 
did  it.  So,  too,  he  condemned  verbosity ;  but  we  feel 
that  his  own  freedom  from  needless  words  is  owing  to 
the  fact  that,  because  they  were  needless,  they  did  not 
occur  to  him.  He  remarked  once  in  private,  that,  in 
the  preparation  of  his  sermons,  he  always  had  in  im- 
agination his  hearers  all  before  him.  And  we  can 
readily  believe  it.  His  words  and  phrases,  their  com- 
bination and  mutual  adjustment,  reveal  the  same 
thing.  His  sentences  were  written  to  be  spoken  ;  and 
they  bear  the  marks  of  having  been  spoken,  mentally 
at  least,  in  the  process  of  formation.  Very  often,  on 
the  other  hand,  more  especially  in  those  sermons  which 
were  not  expressly  prepared  for  the  press,  it  is  no  less 
plain  that  the  thought  of  how  a  sentence  would  read 
was  something  that  the  writer  gave  himself  no  concern 
about. 

While  in  some  respects  Professor  Shepard's  style 
of  writing  is  the  very  opposite  of  that  of  Paul,  there 
is  sometimes  that  in  his  sermons  which  very  for- 
cibly recalls  to  us  the  manner  in  whicli  the  impetu- 
ous earnestness  of  the  apostle  overrides  all  rules  of 
speech.  There  is  the  like  "  disproportion  between 
thought  and  language ; "  "  the  thought,"  in  the  words 


XXIV  MEMOEIAL   DISCOUESE. 

of  another,  "  straining  the  language  till  it  cracks  in 
the  process,  a  shipwreck  of  grammar  and  logic  as 
the  sentences  are  whirled  through  the  author's  mind." 
The  one  point  is  gained.  The  truth,  as  it  presented 
itself  to  his  own  view,  is  made  to  stand  out,  in  the 
view  of  the  hearer,  as  clearly  as  language  can  make 
it  ;  and  all  other  considerations  are  given  to  the 
winds.  This  very  disregard  of  logical  and  grammati- 
cal restraints  heightens,  if  possible,  the  impression. 
It  is  as  if  the  speaker  could  not  stop  to  put  into  shape 
the  thoughts  which  were  struggling  for  utterance.  It 
may  almost  be  doubted  whether  the  whole  compass  of 
literature  furnishes  any  examples  of  a  style  more  thor- 
oughly expressive  of  the  emotions  of  a  full  and  burdened 
spirit  than  is  found  in  some  of  these  discourses.  The 
very  structure  of  the  sentences  suggests  to  the  imagina- 
tion —  and  the  suggestion  comes  with  tenfold  vividness 
to  those  who  remember  the  manner  in  which  they  were 
thrown  out  —  the  action  of  a  massive  engine  driven  by  a 
gigantic  force  communicated  from  within  by  a  succes- 
sion of  brief  but  constantly  repeated  impulses,  any  one 
of  which,  if  protracted  but  a  very  little,  would  shatter 
and  destroy  the  engine.  At  the  same  time,  too,  the 
measured  regularity  of  the  impulses  gives  us  the  im- 
pression of  a  constant  and  mighty  self-control  continu- 
ally put  forth  to  keep  inside  the  limits  of  exertion  within 
which  alone  it  is  possible  to  continue  to  exist  and  act. 
Professor  Shepard  was  in  a  peculiar  manner  fitted  by 
natural  advantages  for  the  effective  utterance  of  weighty 
truth.  With  a  large  and  well-proportioned  frame,  and 
a  countenance  significant  of  a  rare  and  attractive  com- 
bination of  seriousness,  gentleness,  simplicity,  and 
strength,  he  possessed  a  voice  which  ranged,  with  per- 


MEMORIAL   DISCOUESE.  XXV 

feet  facility,  from  the  most  soothing  tones  of  consola- 
tion to  the  thunders  which  are  needed  to  arouse  a 
slumbering  world  to  the  anticipation  of  judgment  to 
come.  And  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that,  espe- 
cially in  his  best  efforts,  he  made  the  most  of  these 
advantages.  It  has  often  been  noticed  as  a  remark- 
able circumstance,  that  the  same  disciple  who  is  habitu- 
ally spoken  of  as  the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  should 
have  been  one  of  the  two  surnamed  "  The  Sons  of 
Thunder."  But  a  similar  combination  of  qualities  was 
exhibited  in  Professor  Shepard.  Where  shall  we  look 
to  find  a  man  more  nearly  realizing  than  he  did,  in  all 
beautiful  and  winning  attributes  of  character,  our  ideal 
of  the  Apostle  John  ?  And  yet  what  epithet  could  be 
more  expressive  of  his  power  in  the  pulpit  than  "Boan- 
erges "  ?  Every  utterance  bespoke  the  resolute  deter- 
mination, men  shall  he  made  to  listen.  Preachers  often 
seem  to  say  to  their  hearers,  I  have  that  to  communi- 
cate which  you  ought  to  listen  to,  which  you  ought  to 
regard.  If  you  do  so,  it  will  be  your  wisdom.  If  you 
do  not,  you  will  be  the  losers.  But  with  yourselves 
alone  is  the  responsibility.  I  have  given  you  the  oppor- 
tunity to  hear ;  and  if  you  fail  to  hear,  it  will  be  no  fault 
of  mine.  Professor  Shepard  was  not  satisfied  with 
giving  men  the  opportunity  to  hear.  Hear  they  should. 
And  not  only  so,  but  attend  they  should.  Accordingly, 
attend  they  did.  The  habitual  attitude  of  his  hearers 
well  illustrated  what  he  himself  says  in  his  description 
of  the  Effective  Preacher.  "  The  hearers  of  such  a 
one,"  he  says,  "  will  not  be  likely  to  settle  down  to  their 
slumbers  while  he  has  them  in  hand.  They  will  hardly 
dare  to  sleep ;  for  they  never  will  be  able  to  conjecture 
what  things  may  be  exploded  on  their  organs  before 
they  wake  up." 


XXVI  MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 

One  of  the  elements  of  Professor  Shepard's  power 
in  the  pulpit,  and  one  not  among  the  least  of  them,  lay 
in  a  quality  which  under  ordinary  circumstances  is  apt 
to  prove  a  fatal  obstacle  to  all  success.     I  refer  to  his 
constitutional  timidity.     He  was  naturally  timid,  self- 
distrustful,  even  to  a  degree  that  was  almost  morbid. 
In  a  letter  to  a  friend  who  had  expressed  a  similar 
feeling,  he  once  remarked,  "  As  to  the  shrinking  and 
trembling  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  I  seem  to  myself 
to  have  been  doing  nothing  but  just  that  very  thing  all 
my  life.     I  have  taken  up  no  new  duty  except  with 
dread  and  apprehension  ;  but  with  God's  grace  I  have 
worked  my  way  through  it  so  far."     It  was  a  very 
signal  and  triumphant  manifestation  of  the  power  of 
faith,  that,  in  surmounting  this  great  obstacle,  he  was 
actually  enabled  to  convert  it  into  a  direct  source  of 
augmented  influence.     Such  a  victory  indeed  brings 
always  an  accession  of  moral  strength.     It  always  im- 
plies a   strenuous   and   invigorating  exertion  of   the 
faculties,  and  the  incorporation  into  the  character  of 
some  lofty  and  ennobling  end.     When  it  comes,  as  it 
doubtless  did  to  Professor  Shepard,  as  the  result  of 
wrestling  supplication,  the  strength  by  which  it  is  ac- 
complished is  the  strength  of  God,  and  is  available 
wherever  strength  is  needed.      But  it  was  not  only 
through  its  general  effect  upon  his  character  that  this 
inward  conflict,  perpetually  renewed,  though  always 
with   the  same  result,  contributed  to  his  efficiency. 
It  is  no  difficult  matter  to  trace  the  very  way  in  which 
this  result  was  brought  about.     There  was  first  the 
striking    contrast    between    the    preacher's    manifest 
self-distrust,   and   the   resources  of  power   which    he 
was  found  to  possess.     When  he  rose  in  the  pulpit, 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXVll 

especially  to  read  a  hymn,  or  to  lead  the  devotions  of 
the  congregation,  no  words  could  have  expressed  more 
strongly  than  it  was  written  on  his  countenance  the 
feeling  that  he  was  nothing,  and  less  than  nothing. 
There  was  power  enough  there,  obvious  even  to  the 
most  superficial  observer ;  but  it  was  power  to  all  ap- 
pearance quiet,  undemonstrative,  like  the  power  which 
holds  the  planets  in  their  orbits ;  a  power  which  cer- 
tainly gave  no  promise  of  any  extraordinary  appeal  to 
the  senses.  And  when  such  appeals  began  to  be 
made,  sometimes  with  a  force  almost  sufficient  to  raise 
the  hearers  from  their  seats,  they  came  with  all  the 
more  effect  for  coming  as  they  did,  not  only  unheralded, 
but  contrary  to  all  the  expectations  that  mere  appear- 
ances had  raised.  Then,  too,  the  mind  of  the  hearer 
was  very  likely  to  revert,  in  part  unconsciously,  per- 
haps, yet  with  something  of  sympathetic  interest,  to 
the  greatness  of  the  apprehended  motive,  the  strength 
of  conviction  and  emotion,  that  must  be  working  in 
such  a  nature,  in  order  to  impel  it  to  such  a  demon- 
stration. 

But  the  great  point  to  be  considered  here  is,  that 
the  preacher's  native  timidity  made  it  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  him  to  forget  self.  This  was  essential,  not 
merely  to  his  having  any  measure  of  comfort  in  his 
work,  but  to  his  doing  it  at  all.  If  he  thought  of  him- 
self, it  was  not  possible  that  his  thought  should  ever 
take  the  form  of  self-complacency,  or  any  other  form 
than  that  of  a  painful,  oppressive,  almost  paralyzing 
sense  of  his  own  insufficiency  to  do  any  thing  like 
justice  to  the  themes  he  was  attempting  to  set  forth. 
He  must  forget  self,  or  sit  down.  And  he  did  forget 
self.     There  was,  as  we  have  said,  a  degree  of  self-con- 


XXVIU  MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE. 

sciousness  perceptible  upon  his  first  rising  in  the  pul- 
pit. But  this  lasted  only  for  a  moment.  It  was  but 
the  utterance  of  a  few  sentences,  and  the  preacher  was 
hidden  in  his  subject,  hidden  from  his  liearers,  hidden 
from  himself;  and,  after  that,  all  that  had  any  tendency 
to  bring  him  to  the  minds  of  others,  or  to  intimate  tliat 
his  own  mind  liad  even  for  an  instant  turned  inward 
upon  itself,  was  that  now  and  then  in  the  midst  of  his 
most  impressive  passages  there  was  seen  a  slight  con- 
traction of  the  eyelids,  as  if  caused  by  the  too  near 
approach  of  some  overwhelming  vision  of  glory  or  of 
terror.  I  need  not  say  how  vast  the  advantage  gained 
in  respect  to  substantial  power  by  this  utter  imperson- 
ality of  the  speaker.  The  absence  of  all  self-assertion 
on  his  part  made  it  impossible  that  any  aversion  the 
hearer  might  entertain  towards  the  message  should  be 
re-inforced  by  the  insinuations  of  wounded  self-es- 
teem, or  of  unwillingness  to  yield  to  the  dictation  of 
another.  Men  were  made  to  feel  that  they  were 
brought  in  contact  with  the  truth  itself,  or  at  least 
with  what  purported  to  be  truth.  A  large  class  of 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  their  reception  of  it  were  thus 
wholly  put  aside.  They  were  placed  in  a  position  to 
judge  it  upon  its  own  merits  ;  and  if  it  was  ever  to 
become  a  reality  to  them,  it  was  likely  to  become  so 
now. 

Closely  connected  with  the  constitutional  timidity 
of  Professor  Shepard,  inseparable,  indeed,  from  it 
as  an  element  of  power,  and  yet  carefully  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  it  in  respect  to  nature  and  origin, 
was  his  profound  Christian  humility.  The  popular 
admiration  of  him  as  a  preacher,  and  the  respect  enter- 
tained throughout  the  country  for  his  character  and 


MEMORIAL   discourse;  Xxix 

talents,  were  manifested  in  too  many  ways  to  allow 
him  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  he  pos- 
sessed certain  rare  and  liigh  endowments.  It  is  trne 
the  low  estimate  he  habitually  entertained,  and  wliich 
he  was  accustomed  to  express  without  reserve,  of  the 
grounds  upon  which  pulpit  popularity  very  often  rests, 
would  have  effectually  prevented  him  from  drawing 
those  inferences  from  the  applause  of  the  multitude 
which  mere  vanity  would  have  been  ready  to  accept. 
But  while  his  own  good  sense  in  its  deliberate  ex- 
ercise must  have  inevitably  led  him  to  something 
approaching  to  a  just  appreciation  of  his  powers,  tlie 
verdict  of  approval  was  too  widely  ratified,  and  had 
the  sanction  of  too  high  authority,  to  be  explained 
away  even  by  himself  as  a  tribute  rendered  to  quali- 
ties that  were  merely  superficial.  Against  any  danger 
of  self-exaltation,  however,  which  might  have  arisen 
in  this  way,  there  was  a  powerful  safeguard  fur- 
nished by  his  faith  in  unseen  realities.  In  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  themes  with  which  he  was  habitually  con- 
versant, and  contrasted  with  which  all  human  faculties 
and  achievements,  considered  in  themselves,  are  noth- 
ingness, we  may  be  sure  he  found  the  constant  nutri- 
ment of  that  crowning  grace  by  which  his  influence 
upon  others  was  so  greatly  heightened. 

It  deserves  to  be  particularly  noticed  here,  that  it 
was  not  only  in  the  enforcement  of  generally  admitted 
ti'uths,  and  in  the  ordinary  methods  of  their  applica- 
tion, that  the  faith  of  Professor  Shepard  raised  him 
above  the  fear  of  man  and  enabled  him  to  speak  the 
word  with  power.  With  all  kindness  and  charity 
towards  those  who  might  differ  from  him  he  combined 
the  utmost  freedom  in  the  formation  of  his  opinions, 


XXX  MEMORIAL    DISCOURSE. 

tlie  utmost  confidence  in  them  when  once  upon  due 
deliberation  formed,  and  the  utmost  firmness  in  ex- 
pressing and  maintaining  them.  He  was  an  outspoken 
abolitionist  when  there  was  a  stigma  in  the  name.  In 
an  age  of  martyrdom,  he  would  have  been  a  martyr. 
Humble-  as  he  was,  self-distrustful  as  he  was,  shrink- 
ing as  he  did  instinctively  from  all  the  harsh  contacts 
of  outward  life,  and  even  from  all  needless  con- 
spicuity,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  he  would  have  been 
found  equal  to  any  of  the  great  emergencies  in  which 
the  might  of  spiritual  truth  has  been  most  signally 
displayed.  He  would  not  have  hesitated  to  confront 
an  adulterous  monarch  with  Nathan's  or  with  Johu 
the  Baptist's  bold  rebuke.  With  Athanasius,  he  would 
have  stood  against  the  world.  Had  he  been  in  the 
place  of  Ambrose,  like  Ambrose  he  would  have  barred 
the  approach  of  the  imperial  butcher  to  the  sacred 
table,  nor  have  abated  one  jot  of  the  humiliation  which 
must  attest  the  depth  of  the  repentance  called  for.  It 
was,  as  we  may  well  believe,  in  a  spirit  only  such  as 
his,  and  with  like  terrific  energy  of  utterance,  that 
Leo  checked  the  progress  of  the  "  Scourge  of  God," 
and  turned  back  the  victorious  Attila  from  the  gates 
of  Rome. 

Among  the  elements  of  Professor  Shepard's  power 
as  a  preacher  we  cannot  enumerate  extraordinary 
skill  in  argument,  splendor  of  imagery,  a  vast  accu- 
mulation of  recondite  and  curious  lore,  keenness  of 
analytic  power,  or  far-reaching  grasp  of  thought.  In 
any  one  of  these  respects,  with  his  native  strength  of 
intellect,  and  his  conscientious  and  indomitable  force 
of  will,  he  might  probably  have  attained  high  eminence. 
He   seemed,   however,  to  have   adopted   a  specialty, 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXxi 

and,  with  characteristic  good  sense,  to  have  selected 
that  to  which  on  the  whole  his  powers  were  best  adapted ; 
the  work,  namely,  of  compelling  men  to  see  and  feel 
how  much  of  weighty  motive  was  directly  involved  in 
the  truths  which  they  professed  to  receive.  When 
he  reasoned,  he  ordinarily  reasoned  well ;  but  he  had 
no  special  fondness  for  controversy,  and  rarely  in  his 
sermons  pursiied  any  lengthened  course  of  argument. 
So  far  as  illustration  was  needed  to  promote  his  main 
end,  he  employed  illustration.  He  was  not  deficient  in 
imagination.  When  he  chose,  he  could  draw  a  picture 
in  a  word.  Yet  there  was  no  special  cultivation  of  the 
imagination.  On  the  other  hand,  there  seemed  often 
to  be  a  studious  repression  of  it,  lest  it  should  inter- 
fere with  the  purpose  so  sternly  kept  in  view.  As  for 
nice  distinctions  in  theology,  they  were  not  directly 
available  toward  the  accomplishment  of  his  one  design ; 
and  therefore  he  ordinarily  let  them  alone.  He  was 
fully  able  to  appreciate  them.  He  recognized  their 
importance  in  their  own  place ;  but  in  his  appeals  to 
the  consciences  of  men  they  would  not  have  been  in 
place. 

We  are  apt  to  think,  sometimes,  that,  without  detri- 
ment to  his  practical  efficiency,  he  might  have  taken  a 
somewhat  broader  range  of  thought  in  dealing  with 
the  great  themes  of  faith  ;  but  it  may  be  readily  believed 
that  it  was  rather  upon  principle,  than  either  from  in- 
ability or  disinclination,  that  he  forbore  habitually  to 
venture  into  those  regions  of  speculation  which  are  so 
attractive  to  the  thoughtful  mind.  He  probably  feared 
that  his  doing  so  might  divert  the  attention  of  his 
hearers  from  what  was  most  vital  to  their  welfare,  or  at 
least  impair  that  fixedness  of  view  without  which  there 


■      \ 


XXXU  MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 

can  be  no  real  depth  of  feeling.  In  revolving  a  subject  to 
be  presented  from  the  pulpit,  his  mind  seemed  as  if  by 
instinct  to  fasten  at  once  upon  the  essential,  all-com- 
prehending certainties  connected  with  it ;  and  all  that 
could  by  any  possibility  interfere  with  the  clearest, 
strongest,  most  effective  presentation  of  those  certain- 
ties must  stand  aside. 

Professor  Shepard  was  most  emphatically  a  preacher 
of  the  cross.  Whatever  constitutes  the  glory  of  the 
Mediator,  —  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead  ;  the  di- 
vine purity  of  his  life  on  earth ;  his  humiliation  unto 
death ;  the  bitterness  of  the  cup  he  drained  for  us ; 
the  exhaustless  riches  of  his  pardoning  love ;  the 
reality  and  blessedness  of  his  indwelling  in  every 
trusting  soul ;  the  fulness  of  joy  that  it  will  be  to 
see  him  as  he  is,  and  to  be  like  him,  —  these  were 
topics  that  he  was  never  weary  of  presenting,  and  by 
their  connection  with  which  the  value  of  every  thing 
else  was  estimated.  Few  men  are  better  entitled  than 
Professor  Shepard,  to  that  highest  praise  of  a  minister 
of  the  gospel,  that  he  determined  to  know  nothing  but 
Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified.  We  are  accustomed 
to  look  upon  him  as  having  been,  more  than  most 
Christians,  a  self-denying  man.  It  is  not  unlikely  that 
in  forming  and  adhering  to  Paul's  sublime  determina- 
tion for  the  greater  honor  of  his  Master,  and  against 
all  the  solicitations  presented  by  pride  of  intellect  and 
the  desire  of  human  approbation,  may  have  lain  the 
chief  self-denial  of  his  life.  And  the  promise  was  ful- 
filled in  him,  "  Those  that  honor  me  I  will  honor." 

In  laying  out  so  little  of  his  strength  comparatively 
in  the  line  of  argument.  Professor  Shepard  reminds 
us  still  of  the  apostle  to  the  Gentiles,  who,  with  all 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXxiii 

his  skill  ill  dialectics  as  displayed  in  the  trains  of  con- 
clusive reasoning  found  here  and  there  in  his  epistles 
and  particularly  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  yet  dis- 
penses with  argument  so  much  that  he  is  even  charac- 
terized by  the  great  heathen  critic  of  antiquity  as 
"  having  first  set  the  example  of  assertion  unaccom- 
panied by  proof." 

And  might  it  not  be  an  improvement  in  the  prevail- 
ing style  of  preaching,  were  there  within  certain  limits 
a  more  habitual  and  prominent  assumption  of  the  fact, 
that  the  natural  man  has  ever  in  his  own  inmost  spirit  a 
witness  to  the  truth  ?  Does  not  this  assumption  often 
furnish  the  most  effective  answer  to  the  objections  of 
the  sceptic,  and  prepare  the  way  for  what  is  at  once 
the  most  intelligent  and  the  most  steadfast  faith  ? 
"  Believe  me,"  was  the  demand  of  Christ,  "  believe 
ME  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and  the  Father  in  me, 
or  else  believe  me /or  the  very  works'  sake.''^ 

Perhaps,  however,  it  should  here  be  said  that  Pro- 
fessor Shepard  could,  with  more  safety  than  many 
others,  dispense  somewhat  with  the  forms  of  demonstra- 
tion. As  we  have  already  seen,  when  he  reasoned  he 
generally  reasoned  with  conclusiveness ;  and  this  of 
itself  inspired  confidence.  Then,  too,  while  the' truth- 
fulness depicted  in  every  line  of  that  open,  guileless 
countenance  made  it  impossible  to  doubt  that  the 
depth  of  feeling  always  indicated  was  the  result  of  firm 
conviction,  there  was  a  manifest  robustness  in  the 
whole  mental  structure  of  the  man,  giving  strong 
assurance  that  whatever  he  was  so  firmly  convinced 
of  and  felt  so  deeply,  he  must  have  had  good  reason 
for  receiving. 

And  this  leads  me  to  say  further,  that,  wherever 


XXxiv  MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE. 

Professor   Shepard  was   known,  the  profound   confi- 
dence  that  was   universally   entertained   in   his   un- 
affected  goodness   gave  to   his  preaching  a  peculiar 
power  that  it  is  difficult  to  express  in  words.    Men  felt 
that,  in  speaking  to  them  of  Christian  experience,  he 
was  only  laying  his  own  heart  open.      The  tender, 
reverential,  comprehensive  pleadings  with  which  he 
led  the  devotions  of  assembled  worshippers  could  only 
have  sprung  from  a  heart  in  constant  fellowship  with 
the  Father,  and  with  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.     As  he 
urged  the  necessity  of  a  faith  that  works  by  love,  his 
daily  course  of  living  at  once  illustrated  and  enforced 
his  meaning.     The  burning  words  with  which  he  de- 
nounced the  insatiate  grasping  after  wealth,  the  strong 
persuasions  by  which  he  sought  to  draw  out  the  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice,  would  have  been  comparatively  ineffec- 
tual but  for  the  re-inforcement  afforded  by  his  own 
example  of  an  ever-active  and  self-forgetful  beneficence. 
And  it  was  a  mighty  vindication  of  the  earnestness 
with  which  he  ever  insisted  on  the  utter  impossibility 
of  justification  on  the  ground  of  merit,  that  his  own 
life  presented  to  mere  human  view,  in  all  its  relations 
toward  God  and  toward  man,  an  aspect  so  unblemished. 
Our  attention  has  been  thus  far  directed  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  elements  of  that  power  which  Profes- 
sor Shepard  exerted  in  the  pulpit.     But  as  a  professor 
he  was  no  less  eminent  in  his  own  department  than  he 
was  as  a  preacher.     And  his  success  in  both  these 
lines  of  effort  rested  upon  the  same  ultimate  basis  of  a 
singularly  vivid   and   unwavering    faith.      The   clear 
views  he  had  of  the  true  objects  of  the  preacher's  work 
no  one  could  more  clearly  or  more  forcibly  set  forth 
than  he ;  while  the  directness  with  which,  in  his  own 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXXV 

practice,  he  ever  kept  those  objects  in  view,  made  his 
preaching  a  model  of  such  a  kind  as  almost  to  con- 
strain some  measure  of  conformity  on  the  part  of  those 
who  were  subjected  to  its  influence,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  forbid  all  servile  attempts  at  imitation.     In 
the  great  success  which  attended  his  ministrations,  his 
pupils  could  not  but  discern  conclusive  evidence  of  the 
value  of  the  instructions  which  he  gave  them.     Nor 
was  there  any  mystery  in  that  success.     The  distin- 
guishing excellences  of  the  method   he  adopted  for 
presenting  truth  were  not  far  to  seek.     They  lay  upon 
the  surface.      To  some  extent  they  were  capable  of 
being  imitated,  and,  as  it  were,  invited  imitation.    And 
that  unconscious  kind  of  imitation,  which  is  the  only 
kind  not  wholly  unworthy  of  a  preacher  of  the  gospel, 
was  sure  to  result,  with  more  or  less  of  palpable  dis- 
tinctness, wherever  a  spirit,  in  any  degree  kindred  with 
his  own,  existed.     No  one  earnest  to  do  good,  whose 
mental  conformation  was  not  portentously  unplastic, 
could  listen  day  after  day  to  his  lectures  on  Homiletics, 
especially  with  the  advantage  of  the  commentary  af- 
forded by  frequent  opportunities  to  hear  him  preach, 
without  acquiring  something  of  that  peculiar  impress 
which  always  told  the  story  of  its  origin. 

In  the  review  of  Professor  Shepard's  life  and  char 
acter  there  is  a  lesson  of  great  significance  afforded  by 
the  very  remarkable  degree  in  which  the  eminence  he 
attained,  both  as  a  preacher  and  as  a  professor,  ob- 
viously rested  upon  moral  grounds.  Not  only,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  did  his  character  give  force  to  his 
preaching,  but  it  preached  continually,  and  with  silent 
but  mighty  power,  to  those  who  rarely  or  never  came 
within  reach  of  his  public  ministrations.    Those  of  his 


SXXVl  MEMORIAL    DISCOURSE. 

fellow-citizens  who  differed  from  him  most  widely  in 
their  religious  views,  rendered  willing  homage  to  the 
beauty  of  his  life  ;  and  probably  to  no  man  among  us 
would  the  hearts  of  the  whole  community  have  turned 
with  more  general  accord,  as  to  an  example  of  what  a 
Christian  should  be,  than  to  him. 

Let  it  not  be  understood  that  it  is  the  design  to 
represent  him  as  a  perfect  character.  Most  indignantly 
would  he  have  forbidden  any  thing  like  this.  And, 
doubtless,  if  he  could  now  speak  to  us  from  the  heav- 
enly glory,  with  a  higher  intensity  of  emphasis  than 
ever  would  he  assure  us  that  the  most  humbling  views 
he  took  of  himself  as  a  sinner,  while  on  earth,  are  now 
seen,  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  divine  holiness,  to  have 
been  far  short  of  what  the  reality  demanded.  But 
whatever  may  have  been  his  shortcomings,  his  infirmi- 
ties, his  sins,  it  would  be  very  hard,  even  if  it  were- 
desirable,  to  point  them  out.  Not  from  any  want  of 
transparency  in  his  character,  but  from  the  deficiency  of 
our  own  discernment,  they  must  pass  untold.  Twenty- 
nine  years  of  intimate  -association  have  certainly  left 
the  speaker  with  as  little  ability  as  inclination  to  lift 
the  veil. 

Professor  Shepard  is  gone.  And  what  a  void  is  left. 
What  a  void  in  that  domestic*  circle,  where,  for  the 
deep  stillness  of  the  outer  world,  the  companion  of  his 
youth  only  hears  with  a  yet  quicker  inward  ear,  the 
voices  of  memory  and  of  Christian  hope,  and  the  accents 
of  the  Divine  Comforter.  What  a  void  in  that  group  of 
associated  teachers,  two  of  whom,  for  about  the  space 
of  a  generation,  lived  with  him  in  a  daily  fellowship  of 
interest  and  effort,  unbroken  by  a  word  or  thought 
of  even  momentary  alienation.     What  a  void  in  that 


MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE.  -  XXXV  H 

sacred  Institution,  so  tenderly  cherished  in  his  deepest 
heart,  so  faithfully  and  so  variously  served  with  his 
best  strength,  and  for  every  member  of  which  he  always 
had  the  ready  sympathy  of  a  father.  What  a  void  in 
the  church  of  which  he  was  the  founder,  in  connection 
with  which  so  many  souls  have  experienced  the  first 
pulsations  of  a  new  spiritual  life,  and  so  many  others 
been  animated  and  strengthened  in  the  ways  of  God. 
What  a  void  in  this  whole  community  in  which  his 
light  has  shone  so  long,  in  the  churches  of  our  State  at 
large,  and  even  among  those  of  other  States,  that  have 
been  so  often  stirred  by  his  eloquence,  and  guided  by 
his  counsels. 

One  void,  however,  we  may  conceive  of,  in  this  con- 
nection, which  we  may  rejoice  there  is  not  and  there 
cannot  be.  Suppose,  for  an  instant,  that  he  had  never 
lived.  Imagine  all  that  sum  of  good  to  be  annulled 
which,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  he  accomplished ; 
all  Christian  life  through  him  communicated,  now  ex- 
tinct for  ever ;  all  stimulus  by  him  imparted  to  the 
Church  of  Christ,  withdrawn ;  all  channels  of  benevo- 
lence closed  up  or  narrowed  back  again,  which  have 
either  been  wholly  opened  by  his  influence,  or  along 
which,  widened  by  his  influence,  there  is  poured  a 
richer  flow  of  blessing  to  the  world, — imagine  all  this, 
and  follow  out  the  course  of  thought,  as  far  as  finite 
intellects  can  trace  it,  and  then  attempt  to  form  some 
estimate  of  the  nature  and  amount  of  loss  to  man,  for 
time  and  for  eternity,  that  such  a  supposition  would 
involve,  if  realized. 

Not  only  is  the  past  secure.  Not  only  did  our 
brother  do  a  blessed  work  in  life,  which  can  never  be 


XXXVm  MEMORIAL  DISCOURSE. 

undone,  but  he  is  working  still,  working  widely,  work- 
ing mightily,  and  will  continue  to  work  as  long  as  the 
world  shall  stand.  His  was  pre-eminently  a  moulding 
influence,  and  it  was  largely  exerted  upon  those  whose 
business  it  was  to  be  to  exert  a  moulding  influence  on 
others.  To  say  nothing  of  the  self-propagating  im- 
pulses towards  all  good  that  may  have  been  set  in 
operation  through  the  peculiar  opportunities  he  had  of 
preaching  far  and  wide,  when  we  consider  in  how 
many  seminaries  besides  our  own  he  labored,  and  at 
how  many  different  times,  and  often  in  contact  with 
large  classes  of  young  ministers,  there  is  no  extrava- 
gance in  affirming  that  he  is  now  giving  character  con- 
tinually to  the  form  in  which  the  gospel  is  presented 
to  thousands  upon  thousands  in  every  region  of  the 
globe.  Not  only  among  English-speaking  races,  but  to 
multitudes  upon  whom  his  own  most  impassioned 
exhortations  would  have  been  spent  without  effect,  he 
speaks  continually  through  those  who  have  learned 
from  him  to  speak  with  power.  In  Arabic,  Turkish, 
and  Armenian,  in  the  tongues  of  Hindostan  and  China, 
and  in  savage  dialects  first  reduced  to  writing  by  his 
pupils,  words  that  to  him  would  have  been  unmeaning 
are  every  Sabbath  and  every  week  day  wrought  into 
new  and  more  expressive  combinations,  and  convey 
the  message  of  salvation  with  a  more  commanding 
energy,  because  he  has  lived  and  taught.  The  wisdom 
and  the  spirit  with  which  he  spoke  will  be  transmitted. 
And  it  may  well  be  that,  long  ages  hence,  the  dwellers 
on  the  steppes  of  Asia,  as  they  hear  in  their  own 
tongues  the  wonderful  works  of  God,  and  are  moved 
to  holy  reverence  and  trust  and  love,  while  all  unable 


MEMORIAL   DISCOURSE.  XXXix 

to  trace  the  origin  of  that  inspiration  which  makes  old 
famihar  words  to  fall  upon  their  ears  with  such  strange 
power,  will  have  reason,  though  they  know  it  not,  to 
be  thankful  for  the  grace  that  was  poured  into  the  lips 
of  one  that  sleeps  on  the  banks  of  the  Penobscot. 


The  collection  of  discourses  here  published  —  with  two 
or  three  exceptions  —  were  selected  by  Mr.  Shepard,  and  a 
portion  of  them  prepared  for  the  press  by  him.  His  strong 
reluctance  to  print  any  sermons  was  finally  overcome  by  the 
repeated  solicitation  of  his  friends  and  a  formal  request  of 
Alumni  of  the  Seminary,  urging  that  the  book,  beside  its 
usefulness  among  the  churches,  would  be  helpful  to  them  and 
others  called  to  preach  the  gospel.  All  those  suggested  by 
him  could  not  be  included  in  a  single  volume,  which  was  all 
he  would  consent  should  be  given  to  the  public,  and  such 
were  selected  as  required  the  least  change  in  the  manuscripts 
to  prepare  them  for  the  press. 

L.  F.  S. 


SERMONS. 


I. 

PREACHING  TO   THE   MASSES. 

But  we  preach  Christ  crucified.  —  1  CoR.  i.  23. 

T  PROPOSE,  as  the  subject  of  this  discourse,  to  speak 
•^  of  the  gospel  as  having  power  on  the  masses :  in 
other  words,  to  set  forth  that  type  of  preaching  which 
is  fitted  to  take  effect  on  the  less  cultivated  minds,  — 
the  more  common  minds  of  the  world. 

There  is  great  complaint  of  failure  on  the  part  of 
preachers  to  reach  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  people. 
There  is  alleged  here  a  great  defect  in  the  result 
or  fruit  of  their  labors ;  and  it  is  asked  if  there  be 
not  some  serious  defect  in  our  theory  and  mode 
of  preaching.  Or  must  we  take  the  ground  that 
the  gospel  itself  is  incompetent,  —  is  no  longer  the 
power  it  once  was  ?  It  is  alleged,  from  a  highly  au- 
thoritative source,  that  tlie  preachers  of  this  day  are  at 
fault  in  keeping  to  a  refined  and  intellectual  type  of 
discourse,  having  too  prominently  in  mind  an  elite  and 
elect  class  of  hearers.  I  do  not  undertake  to  pro- 
nounce on  the  justice  of  these  statements  or  criti- 
cisms, but  fall  back  on  the  theme  already  indicated ; 
namely,  that  type  of  preaching  which  we  find  set  forth 
in  the  first  Christian  labors, — prominently  as  exem- 

1 


Z  PREACHING   TO    THE    MASSES. 

plified  in  the  apostle  Paul,  that  most  effective  of  all 
preachers. 

We  take  for  our  text  his  own  words,  descriptive  or 
suggestive  of  his  own  mode.  His  work  was  pre-emi- 
nently to  preach  the  gospel ;  and  he  condenses  the 
whole  statement  into  three  words :  We  preach  Christ 
a'ucified.  This  mode,  which  was  his  power,  is  more 
expansively  given  in  a  statement  which  he  makes  in 
1  Cor.  ii.  2 :  "  For  I  determined  not  to  know  any  thing 
among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified.  For 
I  was  with  you  in  weakness,  and  in  fear,  and  in  much 
trembling.  And  my  speech  and  my  preaching  was  not 
with  enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom,  but  in  demon- 
stration of  the  Spirit  and  of  power."  Again,  he 
says,  "  I  came  not  to  you  with  excellency  of  speech 
or  of  wisdom,  declaring  unto  you  the  testimony  of 
God." 

That  the  apostle's  preaching  was  with  great  effect, 
there  is  abundant  evidence.  His  work,  in  this  regard, 
the  results  accomplished  by  it,  —  in  its  radical  re- 
forming efficacy ;  in  the  number  of  souls  reached  and 
saved ;  in  its  influence  upon  the  condition  of  the  age, 
and  the  history  of  the  world ;  in  its  bearing  upon  tho 
kingdom  of  Christ,  and  the  repletion  and  the  blessed- 
ness of  heaven,  —  is  without  any  parallel.  And  it 
was  a  work  not  only  vast  in  compass,  but  also  various 
and  profound  in  detail.  It  was  a  work  on  the  soul 
itself,  changing  the  man  at  the  very  centre  and  spring 
of  all  his  action,  succeeding,  as  the  apostle  did,  to 
make  the  gospel  a  power  to  do  this  wherever  he 
touched,  —  showing  it  a  power  alike  upon  those  al- 
most at  antipodes  in  locality,  and  quite  so  in  charac- 
ter J  upon  the  barbarian  and  the   civilized   equally ; 


PREACHING   TO    THE   MASSES.  6 

upon  the  men  of  the  Greek  type  and  the  Roman  type ; 
upon  the  men  of  any  of  the  religions  and  of  none  of 
them ;  upon  persons  of  all  the  philosophies,  those 
of  none :  all  these  about  equally  felt  the  power  of 
this  man  in  the  ministry  of  the  word.  If  it  is  true, 
now,  that  the  apostle  was  so  signally  effectual  in  his 
speech  and  preaching,  then  it  may  be  well  for  us  to 
sit  at  his  feet,  and  subject  ourselves  to  his  influence, 
—  at  once  receive  some  shaping  at  his  hand,  and 
catch  some  quickening  from  the  impulsion  of  his  en- 
thusiasm. 

This  type  of  preaching,  as  set  forth  and  illustrated 
in  the  mode  of  the  apostle,  we  can  speak  of  only  in  a 
few  of  the  main  features  thereof.  It  is  very  evident, 
from  the  broken  specimens  we  have,  that  preaching, 
in  the  hands  of  Paul  and  his  co-laborers,  was  no  set 
or  formal  affair,  was  held  to  none  of  the  now  recog- 
nized canons  ;  but  was  rather  in  a  somewhat  loose,  free 
discourse,  drawn  from  the  Scriptures,  and  aimed  to 
establish  in  the  minds  before  them  certain  facts,  as 
being  in  tlie  Scriptures,  and  also  as  being  their  doctrine 
and  material  of  redemption. 

1.  I  remark,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  we  find 
preaching,  in  the  hands  of  these  early  performers,  to  be 
very  much  announcement,  the  proclaiming,  attesting, 
or  declaring  of  a  testimony,  —  a  setting  forth  of  knowl- 
edge and  doctrine.  It  is  a  sort  of  heralding,  a  trumpet 
tone  and  service ;  a  seizing  and  greatening  of  certain 
primary  and  essential  facts,  giving  them  an  unqualified 
and  unmistakable  prominence,  somehow  making  them 
obtrusive  and  adhesive  to  the  men  in  hearing.  Thus 
did  this  apostle  preach.  Nothing,  perhaps,  more  sur- 
prises us  than  Paul's  confined  range,  as  he  announces, 


4  PREACHING   TO    THE    MASSES. 

in  one  of  the  passages  quoted,  what  seems  an  inevitable 
sameness  of  truth  and  topic.  Evidently  two  master 
ideas  successively  had  possession  and  ruled  in  him, — 
first,  the  old,  fomenting,  Jewish  idea ;  then,  this  regen- 
erated and  baptized  into  the  Christian  idea,  the  seat 
ever  after  of  infinitely  purer  and  intenser  ardors  ;  — 
not  now  the  bondage  of  law  in  the  Piiarisaic  interpre- 
tation, but  the  largeness  and  freeness  and  opulence  of 
faith  as  the  justifying  principle  or  condition.  We  are 
not  to  suppose  or  admit  that  this  species  of  limitation, 
recognized  by  the  apostle,  operated  to  cramp  or  en- 
feeble his  action  ;  but  the  opposite.  For  we  find,  all 
down  the  past,  that  the  great  achievers,  by  speech  and 
deed,  have  been  more  commonly  of  a  like  limitation, 
—  a  very  few  things,  on  their  part,  to  say  or  do  ;  but 
those  few  overwhelmingly  put. 

There  is  one  quality  which  preaching,  when  it  is 
thus  announcing,  promulging,  witnessing,  —  one  qual- 
ity it  secures  ;  namely,  that  it  is  very  clearly,  strongly 
positive  in  its  character.  Of  necessity,  it  must  be 
strongly  positive,  —  a  very  projecting  forth  of  the 
great  essentials  in  fact  and  doctrine.  This  must  be 
done,  in  order  that  the  minds  which  are  to  receive 
them  may,  in  some  tolerable  proportion  to  the  whole, 
succeed  in  receiving  them ;  that  is,  really  take  them 
in,  apprehend  them,  and  not  mistake  concerning  them. 
It  is  amazing  how  difficult  it  is  to  secnre  a  clear  lodge- 
ment, in  the  minds  of  people,  of  the  most  simple, 
rudimental  truths,  in  morals,  government,  or  religion. 
Take  repentance,  for  instance.  How  many  hear  re- 
pentance preached  through  life,  and  at  the  end  but 
imperfectly  know  what  it  is ;  so  that,  if  their  salva- 
tion turned  upon  their  having  the  right  intellectual 


PREACHING   TO   THE   MASSES.  5 

idea  or  apprehension,  they  would  not  be  saved.  We 
bear  in  mind  that  it  is  the  passions  which  cloud  and 
hinder ;  and  this  holds  everywhere,  on  all  subjects,  — 
especially  religion.  Hence  the  propriety,  yea,  the 
necessity,  that  the  preaching  deal  in  very  clear  state- 
ments,—  not  in  thin  or  fine  or  equivocal,  not  the  truth 
split  into  hairs,  but  endued  with  substance,  and  built 
into  the  concrete ;  and  continue  thus,  and,  if  possible, 
succeed  in  getting  a  few  leading,  right  ideas  at  once 
unmistakably  in  the  head,  and  profoundly  in  the 
heart. 

2.  The  next  statement  I  offer  almost  follows  from 
the  preceding.  It  is,  that  the  kind  of  preaching  we 
are  considering  —  preaching  with  the  obtrusive  and 
implanting  intent  —  not  only  does  not  ask  for  the 
refinements  of  rhetoric,  the  mere  aesthetics  ;  but  in- 
stinctively dismisses  them.  The  very  aim  and  tone 
of  this  kind  necessitate  plainness.  And  then  the 
great  precursor  in  this  line  has  struck  for  us  the  key : 
he  has  given  the  pattern,  who,  in  carrying  through  his 
resolve  not  to  know  any  thing  among  the  people,  save 
Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified,  fell,  as  he  tells  us, 
upon  the  simplicities  of  language  ;  abjured  the  high- 
wrought,  the  artistic,  or  what  he  calls,  as  given  in  our 
tongue,  the  excellencies  of  speech.  He  appears  be- 
fore us  as  one  evidently  burdened,  and  greatly  hesitat- 
ing on  account  of  the  disadvantageous,  the  homely, 
the  enfeebling,  lying  in  his  case.  And  yet,  when  he 
came  to  the  work,  he  did  it  manfully,  and  he  did  it 
mightily ;  because  his  preaching  was  not  with  the 
enticing  words  of  man's  wisdom,  but  with  the  oppo- 
site both  in  spirit  and  style,  and  therefore  with  demon- 
stration and  power. 


b  PREACHING   TO   THE  MASSES. 

It  is  remarkable  how  often  the  men  with  the  defects 
have  the  most  signally  wrought,  and  swept  on  to  the 
large  results  ;  as  in  the  case  of  our  apostle,  whom  we 
hear  groaning,  in  his  conscious  meanness,  at  the  same 
time  the  world  and  heaven  were  ringing  with  the  fame 
of  his  deeds.  While  sinking  himself  out  of  sight, 
principalities  and  powers,  the  most  hostile  and  auda- 
cious, were  giving  way  before  him.  And  it  was  done 
in  his  case  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching ;  and  also 
in  the  case  of  most  who  have  come  after  him,  in  any 
like  efficiency,  it  has  been  by  the  foolishness  of 
preaching.  And  how  have  we  all  sprung  to  the  rescue 
of  this  phrase  of  Paul's  using,  ready  to  show  that  it 
does  not  mean  foolish  preaching  I  Yet  I  confess,  for 
one,  that  I  have  been  somewhat  shaken  on  this  point, 
and,  from  later  observations,  am  about  ready  to  con- 
fess that  it  does  sometimes,  at  least,  mean  foolish 
preaching.  One  thing  is  certain,  —  that  to  us  of  the 
rules  and  the  forms  it  is  foolish  preaching.  There  is 
no  linking  of  a  process,  or  backing  of  an  argument, 
or  felicity  of  figure  or  phrase  ;  only  this :  the  great 
things  of  God  are  boldly  given,  done  with  a  rough 
depicting,  a  vehement  downrightness,  a  persistent 
affirming.  The  people  are  told,  It  is  so,  just  as  it  is 
here  written  in  the  Book ;  and  it  is  amazing.  The 
eternal  all  with  you  is  at  stake.  See  the  rage  and 
swelter  of  the  devouring  fire !  Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God.  Now  is  the  time  !  Escape  for  your  life.  And 
the  rugged  and  steaming  words  take  hold ;  and  men 
in  crowds,  that  never  heard  before,  hear  now ;  and  the 
weakness  and  the  foolishness  strangely  become  to 
them  a  power  of  redemption.  This,  when  it  is  about 
certain  that  the  far  abler  men,  by  the  more  authentic 


PREACHING   TO   THE   MASSES.  7 

modes,  and  by  a  speech  replete  with  all  the  selectest 
qualities,  never  would  have  reached  them. 

When  we  say  that  these  inferior  qualities  prove,  in 
the  directions  named,  the  most  effectual,  still  we  add, 
that  we  are  to  suppose  or  assume  certain  other  qual- 
ities as  also  being  there,  which  help  minister  to  the 
strong  effect.  For  this  must  be  conceded,  —  that  no 
man  ever  yet  produced  a  great  effect  on  the  popular 
mind,  without  something  marked  and  positive  to  do  it 
with.  We  may  not  liavc  the  wit  to  find  it :  the  people 
have  the  sense  to  feel  it.  Some  of  the  most  vital  con- 
ditions of  power  are  observed  by  him. 

3.  Another  statement  I  now  make  is,  that,  while 
the  order  of  preaching  in  hand  almost  of  necessity 
takes  to  the  coarser,  ruder  rhetoric,  it  also  falls  prom- 
inently into  the  briefer,  because  self-evidencing,  mode 
of  proof.  Its  third  great  feature,  then,  is,  that  it  is  self- 
evidencing.  It  is  very  obvious,  that  the  result  of 
argument  is  not  always  reached  by  the  established 
paths  of  logic.  Occasionally  it  is  done  almost  wholly 
by  another  process.  Very  often  is  it  so,  in  securing 
the  admission  of  the  primary,  the  cardinal  ideas  in 
morals  and  religion.  What,  for  instance,  did  the  most 
incontrovertible  reasoning,  pressed  for  a  generation 
by  some  of  our  purest  and  ablest  men,  avail  to  con- 
vince this  Christian  nation,  that  a  man  is  a  man,  and 
that  the  doctrine  of  right  in  enslaving  him  is  of  tlie 
Devil  ?  Almost  nothing,  — ■•  except  to  bring  contempt 
on  the  pestilent  agitators.  God  at  length  changed 
the  style  of  proceeding.  He  employed  upon  us  the 
shorter  and  more  palpable  process ;  dealt  in  premises 
that  were  blows  :  and,  in  a  single  year,  the  extreme  of 
the  conservatives  joined  to  intensify  the  conclusions 


8  PEEACHING   TO    THE   MASSES. 

of  the  old  fanatics ;  and  our  Wall  Streets  and  State 
Streets  rung  out  the  cry,  "  Down  with  Slavery." 

It  seems  to  be  a  principle,  that  whatever  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  message  must  have  the  conditions  of 
its  enforcement  very  much  within  itself.  The  word 
"  fire  "  is  uttered  at  early  night  in  the  streets  of  a 
peaceful  village.  No  one  cares.  It  is  done  in  the 
sport  of  some  boys.  At  another  time,  the  word  brings 
instantly  every  sleeper  upon  liis  feet  and  forth  to  the 
contest ;  because,  from  the  very  tones  the  man  uses, 
from  the  very  way  of  his  speaking,  all  are  sure  he  is 
proclaiming  a  terrible  fact.  The  very  announcement 
carries  its  proof.  Longinus,  the  early  Greek  critic, 
sets  down  Paul  as  the  first  master  of  undemonstrated 
statements ;  utterances  without  the  form  of  demon- 
stration, and  yet  they  go  forth  with  the  efficacy  of  de- 
monstration. We  have,  in  the  main,  the  explanation 
of  this  fact  or  power  in  this  apostle's  history  and  ex- 
perience ;  in  the  fact  that  he  came  to  believe  by  liter- 
ally seeing.  He  did  not  take  the  gospel,  —  receive  it 
as  truth  from  the  teaching  or  testifying  of  Peter,  and 
the  other  apostles  who  were  before  him.  It  was,  I 
repeat,  by  beholding.  It  came  upon  him  as  a  fresh 
and  huge  revelation,  by  no  second  hand.  As  a 
streaming  and  burning  column  from  heaven  it  came, 
and  entered  him  at  once,  in  fulness  as  light  and 
warmth.  And,  as  he  came  to  believe  by  seeing,  he 
made  others  believe,  because  he  ever  spake  as  one 
who  had  seen.  His  very  mode  and  temper  of  speech 
was  his  argument.  His  vast  emotion  before  the 
revealings  of  truth  was  his  argument.  The  scathing 
of  his  brow  from  the  fiery  revelation  ;  the  brand,  or 
scar,  it  then  took  on ;  the  blear  and  anguished  eyes 


PREACHING   TO   THE   MASSES.  9 

even,  —  were  his  argument.  Words  coming  out  of  such 
conditions,  without  any  other  backing,  fell  with  a  con- 
vincing effect.  It  is  true  of  no  otlier  eloquence,  as  it 
is  of  the  preaching  kind,  that  its  seat  is  in  the  man. 
Christianity,  in  its  great  facts,  is  authenticated  in  the 
preacher's  experience.  It  has  become  a  concrete  em- 
bodiment in  his  soul ;  and  all  objective  truth  becomes 
a  visibility  before  him.  The  unseen  and  eternal  he 
looks  upon.  It  is  superfluous  to  say  how  such  a  man, 
with  the  saving  message  within  him  and  the  massed 
auditors  before  him,  will  speak.  It  will  be,  very  likely, 
with  a  process  not  hinted  in  the  books ;  in  the  use 
of  short  links  and  abrupt  connections,  —  the  quick 
forging  of  his  own  heart ;  in  the  utterance  of  words 
and  phrases,  charged,  as  they  go,  with  the  very  in- 
stincts of  truth  ;  and  hence  with  authority  they  go ; 
with  strong  impulsion  he  speaks ;  with  bulks  and 
points  he  speaks  ;  at  once  heavy  to  strike,  and  keen 
to  enter  in. 

Nearly  all  the  singularly  effective  in  speech  have 
been  memorable  in  the  use  of  phrases  ;  have  wrought 
the  contents  of  a  volume  into  a  sentence ;  have  con- 
centred the  Divine  gospel  in  a  word,  and  let  it  forth. 
Paul  shows  himself  one  of  the  greatest  of  these  masters 
of  phrases.  Two  or  three  words, —  and  all  the  powers 
and  mysteries  of  redemption  are  conveyed  ;  and  if  you 
hear  them  once,  they  are  ever  within  you.  Where 
there  is  this  short,  cohesive  putting,  there  is  almost 
necessarily  the  central  warmth  and  the  experimental 
self-evidencing.  It  is  something  the  heart  knows  as- 
suredly, and  feels  profoundly,  and  then  flings  off. 
Then,  also,  it  is  something  the  hearts  over  against  are 
eager  to  take  in.     This '  constitutes  the  true  process, 


10  PEE  ACHING   TO   THE   MASSES. 

the  electric  line  ;  this  the  expeditious  preaching,  and 
is  likely  to  prove  the  potently  missionary  preaching. 

4.  We  come  now  to  a  fourth  step  or  statement. 
Preaching  of  the  kind  we  are  considering  is,  in  the 
first  place,  promulging.  Secondly,  As  being  preach- 
ing with  the  obtrusive  and  implanting  intent,  it  is  with 
a  brief  and  somewhat  rude  rhetoric.  Thirdly,  It  is 
attesting  and  thus  has  the  effect  of  proving.  Fourthly, 
It  is  dispensing.  The  condition  of  effectiveness,  in 
one  particular,  is  the  power  of  a  bold,  outstanding 
rhetoric  ;  in  another,  it  is  the  indwelling  of  a  pro- 
found, experimental  assurance  ;  in  a  third  particular, 
it  is  the  actual  and  large  possession  of  the  gospel. 
In  other  words,  the  effectual  preaching  is  the  gen- 
erously dispensing.  Paul,  as  he  was  at  Ephesus, 
may  illustrate.  He  was,  when  there,  so  surcharged 
with  the  miraculous  potency,  that  from  his  body 
were  brouglit  unto  the  sick  handkerchiefs  and  aprons ; 
and  health  and  life  were  diffused.  The  same  tiling, 
I  love  to  think,  held  spiritually ;  and  it  was  the 
gospel  in  Paul,  so  opulently  and  massively  in  him, 
that  constituted  largely,  in  his  case,  the  wonderfully 
productive  preaching  force ;  not  in  him  merely  as 
assured  truth,  and  to  go  from  him  in  some  form  of 
resistless  demonstration ;  in  him  rather  as  a  resource 
and  wealth  of  blessing,  as  a  divine  treasury  of  good, 
as  a  fountain  of  saving  efficacy.  I  do  not  give  to  the 
servant  the  prerogative  of  the  Master.  But  I  do  con- 
ceive of  the  servant,  under  the  flowing  of  the  Master, 
as  taking  in  quantity,  as  largely  possessing  gospel ; 
and  then,  in  the  uttering,  pouring  it  out  as  a  power  of 
salvation.  It  goes  from  him,  because  it  is  so  richly 
within  him.      As  Peter  said,  What  I  have,  give  I 


PEEACHING   TO    THE   MASSES.  11 

thee;  and  it  was   a   more   enduring   substance  than 
silver  and  gold. 

There  is  a  mystery  in  these  transmissions  from 
mind  to  mind,  from  preacher  to  his  hearers.  It  is  not 
thought,  opinion,  argument,  merely,  he  conveys.  In 
all  instances  of  commanding  effect,  it  is  of  the  nature 
of  substance,  and  seems  to  act  almost  as  a  physical 
property,  and  yet  finely  ethereal.  It  wells  up,  and 
pours  abroad,  crowding,  as  it  goes,  every  avenue  and 
every  possible  egress,  —  limbs,  eyes,  mouth,  every 
feature ;  letting  forth,  as  it  were,  a  diffused  substance 
of  eloquence.  It  is  by  volume  and  quantity  the  man 
thus  rules  over  us.  Dr.  Chalmers  was  a  marked  in- 
stance of  this.  A  friend  and  countryman  of  his,  in 
accounting  for  that  almost  unequalled  sway  he  bore 
over  other  minds,  refers  to  the  activity  and  quantity 
of  the  affections,  and  all  vital  possessions.  It  was  the 
massive  earnestness  of  the  man,  which  worked  hugely 
within,  and  worked  out  in  expression,  through  all  the 
openings ;  and  so  he  seized  you,  overbore  you,  held 
you  at  his  will :  and  by  some  commonplace  truth, 
made  grand  by  his  imagination  and  bathed  in  his 
passion  ;  by  an  intrepid  iteration  and  a  cumulative 
insistance,  —  he  wrought  the  saving  decision  and  ac- 
tion in  the  souls  of  many.  On  other  rostrums  this 
may  be  a  sort  of  magnetic  quantity.  In  the  preaching 
place,  it  should  be,  and  sometimes  has  been,  gospel 
quantity,  gospel  wrought  within,  by  experience,  by 
faith's  appropriations,  into  large  and  benignant  pos- 
session. This  resource  of  efficacy  we  all  may  have. 
If  we  have  it,  we  receive  it  from  the  fountain  above. 
It  is  the  gift  of  God ;  at  once  a  palpable  instrument, 
a  very  substance  of  power,  —  the  means  exhaustless 
of  blessing  and  saving. 


12  PREACHING   TO    THE   MASSES. 

It  comes  very  obvious  to  remark,  —  first,  in  the  way 
of  inference,  that,  in  respect  to  high  pnlpit  power,  we 
see  in  what  direction  it  lies ;  namely,  in  the  inner 
spiritual  enduing,  not  in  the  external  adjustments 
and  accomplishments.  2.  "We  see,  secondly,  how 
great  is  our  liability,  how  strong  is  our  tendency  in 
the  wrong  direction ;  namely,  to  the  externals.  We 
come  to  regard  preaching  as  a  profession.  We  culti- 
vate the  humanities.  We  get  steeped  in  the  litera- 
tures ;  are  trained  to  the  peculiarities  and  niceties  of 
style,  —  grow  partial  to  the  novel  modes,  phrases, 
expressions,  and  use  them.  Thus  we  carry  away 
the  religious  discourse  from  the  unalterable  conditions 
of  a  large  effect.  Preaching  does  not  lie,  it  never  can 
lie,  in  these  sesthetic  conditions.  The  entire  history  of 
the  Church,  the  failures  and  the  successes  in  preach- 
ing, alike  show  this.  Go  back  to  that  passage  of 
more  than  a  century  ago,  when  the  Wesleys  and  their 
co-workers  broke  in  upon  the  broad,  stagnant  calm, 
the  all  but  universal  sleep  of  death,  in  the  English 
Church.  They  took  one  great  truth,  —  Ye  must  be 
born  again,  —  took  it  as  life  and  reality  into  their 
own  souls ;  and  with  a  few  coarse  words  they  spoke 
it,  and  it  shook  like  the  trump  of  resurrection.  And, 
as  they  went  abroad,  hurling  this  one  truth.  Ye  must 
be  born  again,  —  hurling  it,  in  ungainly  phrase, 
against  the  roughest  and  stoutest  souls,  souls  turned 
by  myriads,  demonstrating  by  their  turning  the  might 
of  the  truth  and  the  mode.  We  have  something  of 
the  like  in  our  day,  both  in  our  own  country  and  iu 
England,  —  a  style  and  spirit  unusual,  a  palpable 
handling  of  truth,  and  a  veritable  pulling  at  souls,  as 
though  these  persons  believed  them  literally  dropping 


PREACHING    TO    THE   MASSES.  13 

into  hell.  The  preaching  and  the  modes  both  put  us 
in  doubt,  and  cause  us  to  stand  aloof;  and  yet  we 
have  to  confess  that  there  is  something  there  we  have 
not,  elements  of  power  there  worthy  our  considering. 
And  I  caimot  doubt  that  we  ourselves  should  advance 
in  power,  by  an  infusion  from  these  unauthentic  quar- 
ters, if  we  would  consent  to  modify  our  stately  pro- 
prieties with  some  of  those  pungent  extravagances  ; 
and  if,  in  consequence,  the  damaging  charge  is  cast 
upon  us,  as  it  was  upon  Paul,  that  we  are  mad,  we 
can  take  refuge,  with  him,  in  his  own  summary  vindi- 
cation :  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us.  Better, 
we  may  say,  one  surging  sea  of  fire,  than  these  vast 
arctic  floats  of  ice  amid  which  we  now  seem  wedged 
and  stuck. 

I  remark  again,  we  have  a  great  deal  to  teach 
and  set  us  in  the  direction  where  the  power  lies. 
God  has  been  putting  us  to  school,  and  in  this  school 
giving  us  lessons  on  the  genuine  earnestness,  such  as 
Paul  showed  when  he  said :  One  thing  I  do,  —  an 
earnestness  which  is  a  totality ;  the  whole  executive 
mass  gathered  up  and  consolidatedly  given  to  one 
thing.  It  is  sad  that  there  is  so  much  more  of  this  in 
the  dominion  of  sin  and  of  evil  than  of  good.  In  rebel- 
lion and  sin  we  have  seen  it  in  its  intensest  and  firm- 
est type.  Every  thing  there  concurs,  and  bends  to 
the  one  issue,  and  what  won't  is  made  to.  Well  would 
it  be  if  we  would  take  this  lesson,  and  do  similarly 
for  God  and  his  redemption. 

In  the  same  school  are  furnished  some  lessons  on 
giving.  In  the  past,  some  two  millions  at  the  most, 
this  great  nation,  in  all  its  Christian  denominations, 
has  attained  to  give,  in  order  to  extend  the  kingdom 


14  PREACHING   TO   THE   MASSES. 

of  Jesus  ;  and  we  quite  complacently  felt  that  we  did 
what  we  could.  But  God  proceeded  to  exact,  for  a 
single  year  at  least,  one  thousand  millions ;  and  we 
had  to  confess  to  it,  that  we  could.  Then  another 
thousand  millions  was  added  on,  and  again  we  had  to 
confess  to  it  that  we  could  ;  and  this,  like  the  smaller 
sums  that  went  before,  to  put  down  a  rebellion.  God 
certainly  has  been  disciplining  us  to  higher  ideas  both 
of  doing  and  giving. 

And  let  me  add  also  to  a  more  effbctive  speech  and 
preaching.  Our  ministers,  who  have  gone  out  in  the 
conflict,  all  testify  that  they  have  gained  new  lessons 
in  working  for  souls  ;  have  come  at  once  summarily 
to  preach  at  men,  in  all  brevity  and  directness.  The 
result,  all  through  the  ministry,  we  expect  will  bo, 
a  decided  advantage  in  strength  and  terseness  of 
doctrine,  giving,  in  bolder  proclamation,  the  great 
verities  of  sin  and  retribution. 


n. 

THE  DIVERSIONS  FROM  PREACHING. 

For  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ :  for  it  is  the 
poicer  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  helieveth  ;  to 
the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the  Greek.  —  RoJi.  i.  16. 

TT  is  very  certain  that  we  live  in  a  world  where  a 
-■-  power  is  wanted  to  put  things  right ;  and  here  we 
have  a  power  presented  which  professes  to  be  com- 
petent to  meet  the  world's  sad  exigency.  It  claims  to 
be  a  moral  power,  adapted  to  remove  moral  evils.  It 
is  a  power  as  truth,  having  this  prerogative,  —  to  carry 
with  itself  the  convictions  of  truth,  and  implant  where 
it  strikes  the  evidence  of  its  own  intrinsic  verity.  It 
is  a  power  as  a  provision,  a  repository,  exhaustless  of 
resources  for  the  poor  and  needy.  It  is  a  power  as  a 
remedy,  a  specific  Divine,  which  meets  the  case  of  the 
sin-sick  soul,  which,  wherever  applied,  —  in  due  form 
applied,  —  is  found  to  be  always  adequate  to  remove 
the  disease.  We  consummate  our  description  by  say- 
ing it  is  the  power  of  God,  —  a  system  of  truth,  a 
scheme  and  fountain  of  grace,  proceeding  from  God. 
And  when  it  goes  forth  thus  attended,  there  is  revealed 
on  earth  no  greater  power,  —  the  power  of  God. 

The  gospel  is  a  power  as  being  promulged  ;  specific- 
ally, as  being  preached.      By  being  preached  has  it 


16  THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING. 

won  thus  far  nearly  all  its  signal  triumphs  ;  and  it  has 
won  some  great  triumphs.  It  is  very  obvious,  that 
the  gospel,  as  preached,  proves  a  much  greater  power 
at  one  time,  in  one  set  of  circumstances,  than  it  does 
in  some  other.  And  the  reason  of  this  lies  mainly  in 
the  fact  of  the  Spirit's  presence  and  working  where  the 
power  is  witnessed.  While  this  is  the  great  and  main 
trutli,  it  is  also  true  that  there  are  circumstances 
which  favor  or  hinder  the  appropriate  results  of  the 
gospel.  So  that  a  greater  moral  force,  or  measure  of 
the  divine  influence,  is  required  to  bring  to  pass  the 
same  results,  —  greater  at  one  time  than  at  another. 
The  remark  is  often  made,  that  there  are,,  at  the  pres- 
ent, obstructions,  peculiar  and  greater  than  formerly, 
in  the  way  of  preaching  , —  matters  which  operate 
to  hinder  the  legitimate  effect  of  the  gospel  preached. 
As  it  is  well  that  these  be  taken  into  the  account  in 
the  minister's  preaching,  it  may  be  in  place  to  state 
some  of  those  things,  circumstances,  causes,  which  are 
operating  to  cut  down  the  effects  of  our  preaching. 
I  waive  entirely  the  great,  the  supreme  consideration, 
embraced  in  the  presence  or  absence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit ;  and  keep  to  those  subordinate  matters  which 
have  their  influence,  and  which  pertain  to  ourselves 
and  society. 

And  one  thing  which  here  strikes  the  mind,  and  this 
of  a  generic  character,  is  the  increase  of  simply  divert- 
ing forces. 

1.  It  was  said,  a  great  while  ago,  that  God  hath  made 
man  upright ;  but  they  have  sought  out  many  inven- 
tions. The  latter  clause  in  tliis  declaration  certainly 
holds  its  way  and  its  truth  through  all  succeeding 
ages ;  and  never  did  it  stand  forth  in  so  unquestioned 


THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING.  17 

and  prolific  verity  as  now.  The  things  invented  to 
attract,  to  amuse,  to  excite,  to  occupy  time  and  the 
thoughts,  come  along  in  one  compact  and  crowded 
succession.  And  when  are  we  without  the  presence 
of  something  of  the  sort?  These  are  mostly  new 
things.  The  gospel  is  an  old  thing,  —  a  periodic 
thing ;  revolves  like  the  sun.  We  had  it  last  year ; 
we  have  it  this.  Be  patient,  and  it  will  come  around 
the  next.  Time  enough  to  consider  the  gospel  when 
there  is  nothing  else  to  be  considered.  How  natural 
that  this  last  will  commonly  get  the  go-by !  How 
plain  that  the  great  theme  and  interest,  for  which  the 
Maker  of  the  world  upholds  the  world,  really  has  a 
compressed  and  narrow  chance ! 

There  are  also  the  diversions  of  business,  and  these 
have  acquired  new  force  by  the  new  facilities  created. 
Business  has  quickened  its  movements  —  it  being 
done  by  steam,  by  lightning  —  by  instant  and  large 
strokes  ;  therefore  the  more  eager  and  exciting.  The 
strife  of  business  absorbs  the  man,  —  sinew  and  soul. 
The  zeal  of  business  eats  him  all  up.  We  might 
reason  otherwise,  a  'priori^  and  suppose  a  different 
process  and  result,  —  that,  as  men  can  go  so  far 
and  do  so  much  in  a  little  time,  they  can  afford  to 
lay  over,  and  they  will  lay  over,  some  of  the  shreds 
and  odd  ends  of  their  time  to  the  service  of  God  and 
the  care  of  their  souls.  Such  might  seem  a  good 
argument ;  but  the  fact  is  just  the  other  way.  Men 
were  never  so  voracious  of  time  ;  never  so  impatient 
of  the  least  delay  or  intrusion  upon  their  progress,  as 
they  are  since  they  can  travel  so  far  and  do  so  much 
in  a  little  time.  All  this  hurry  and  stir,  and  eager 
achievement,  and  gainful  reaching  far  forth  of  heart 

2 


18  THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING. 

and  hand  for  the  world,  are  diverting  and  absorbing 
forces.  All  go  to  take  the  mind,  the  thought,  from 
God's  claim ;  from  the  gospel,  that  meets  and  would 
save  him.  And  just  so  far  as  these  diverting  forces 
successfully  exert  themselves,  just  so  far  they  operate 
to  cut  down  the  power,  diminish  the  due  effect,  of  the 
gospel. 

2.  I  remark  again,  that,  in  connection  with  this  growth 
of  diverting  forces,  there  exists  in  the  ministry  a  dim- 
inished power  or  ability  to  get  attention  to  the  gospel. 
I  refer  here  to  no  fault  in  the  ministry.  There  may 
be  a  fault,  —  a  falling-off  in  the  essential  and  effective 
qualities  of  character  and  office.  The  case  may,  in 
part,  be  here,  —  that  the  gospel  preached  has  not  the 
power  it  once  had,  because  preachers  now  are  not,  in 
intellect  and  heart,  what  preachers  have  been  at  some 
previous  time.  But  this  is  not  the  point  I  am  con- 
cerned now  to  present.  Admit  that  the  ministry,  as  a 
whole,  is  all  it  ever  was :  it  is  true  there  goes  not 
from  it  the  power  of  some  former  days  to  arrest  and 
influence  the  people.  And  one  reason  is,  the  people 
have  changed  in  their  estimate,  their  views,  feelings, 
bearing,  toward  ministers.  They  have  not,  as  a  whole, 
that  respect  whicli  was  once  visible.  I  speak  not  now 
of  the  awful  distance  and  the  wide  chasm  which 
yawned  between  ministers  and  people.  This  was  an 
evil  and  a  hinderance,  and  we  are  glad  it  is  gone. 
But  something  valuable  may  have  gone  with  it.  There 
was  a  reverence  for  the  office,  a  certain  wholesome  au- 
thority conceded  to  the  teachings  of  him  who  worthily 
filled  the  office,  a  disposition  to  hear,  with  something 
of  the  implicit  frame  and  faith,  —  hear,  because  it 
issued  from  the   oracle  and  the  minister  of  God, — 


THE  DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING.  19 

very  manifestly  a  position  favorable  to  being  reached 
and  benefited. 

Formerly,  the  advocate,  the  promulger  of  this  gospel 
stood  almost  alone  as  the  instructor  of  the  people,  the 
weekly  orator,  the  puljlic  speaker.  Now  who  is  not 
a  speaker  ?  The  sort  of  competition  into  which  the 
pulpit  is  brought  accounts,  in  part,  for  the  relative 
depression  of  the  occupants  of  the  pulpit.  They 
speak  to  tliose  to  whom  everybody  is  speaking,  on 
every  sort  of  subject,  and  in  all  popular  and  captivat- 
ing modes.  How  plain  to  see,  that  the  preacher  and 
his  theme  get  on  a  level  with  all  the  rest  that  is  going, 
—  commonly  below  the  level.  Instead  of  having  the 
field  to  himself,  he  shares  it  with  a  multitude  of  busy 
workers.  Now,  let  him  lag  behind  or  fall  ofi"  in  the 
spirit  of  his  endeavors,  how  plain  they  will  go  by  him 
and  over  him ;  and  the  people  will  suffer  them,  and  let 
him  lie  there  in  his  sluggishness  and  ignominy !  Let 
there  be  marked  defects  in  his  teaching,  —  subjects 
dropped  from  his  ministrations  which  are  vital  to  hu- 
man welfare  and  to  the  scheme  of  redemption,  so  that 
others  are  heard  where  he  is  reverently  silent ;  heard  as 
supplying  his  lack  of  service ;  heard  the  more  eagerly 
because  he  will  not  speak,  —  how  inevitable  that  he 
lose  still  more  in  influence  from  the  strenuous  and 
fervid  doings  of  others.  This  state  of  things  will  go 
on  and  increase  ;  this  competition  will  grow  warmer 
and  sharper ;  and  the  pulpit,  and  the  gospel  preached 
therefrom,  will  unquestionably  be  put  by  it  at  a  dis- 
advantage as  compared  with  other  days,  —  far  more 
dijfficult  to  get  a  hearing  and  make  an  impression  upon 
the  souls  of  men  ;  yea,  more  difiicult  for  the  great 
God  himself  to  get  a  hearing,  on  account  of  the  num- 


20  THE   DIVERSIONS   PROM   PREACHING. 

berless  creature  tongues  that  are  set  a-going,  not  a  few 
of  which,  in  their  own  opinion,  are  able  to  talk  more 
wisely  even  than  He  that  made  them. 

3.  But  there  is  not  only  the  competition  of  tongues  : 
there  is  also  the  conflict  of  religions,  —  of  the  various 
schemes,  theories,  remedies  which  are  brought  for- 
ward, claiming  the  popular  credence.  This  I  adduce 
as  another  cause  of  diversion,  or  obstruction  standing 
in  the  way  of  the  gospel's  just  effect,  —  the  many  and 
various  styles  of  religion.  And  I  include  here  every 
thing  which  is  brought  forward  as  the  soul's  refuge  or 
reliance,  —  whatever  comes  in  the  shape  of  a  remedy 
or  a  revelation  substituted  for  God's  scheme,  which  is 
one  for  all  the  world  and  all  the  ages.  The  name  of 
these  is  legion.  Tliey  are  very  taking,  many  of  them  ; 
very  plausible  in  some  of  their  aspects ;  supported  by 
some  remarkable  reasonings,  and  still  more  remarkable 
doings.  What,  now,  is  the  effect  of  these  manifold 
schemes,  these  remedies  and  pretended  revelations, 
brought  forward,  advocated,  and  sustained  as  they 
are  ?  Manifestly,  it  is  to  distract  and  unsettle  the 
minds  of  the  people  ;  to  breed  dissatisfaction  with  that 
scheme  which  is  so  unbending,  which  claims  to  be  the 
only  one,  which  repels  and  rejects  all  the  rest,  which 
shuts  all  souls  up  to  this,  —  to  be  saved  by  this,  or  saved 
by  nothing.  In  this  day  of  multiplied  devices  to  re- 
form and  to  save,  there  are  many  whose  quarrel  and 
breaking  off  from  God's  plan  is  at  this  very  point. 
They  will  not  bear  the  restriction.  Then  this  feeling 
naturally  rises  and  spreads.  Indeed,  it  comes  to  be 
said,  They  are  all  about  alike.  According  as  a  man 
thiuketh,  so  is  he.  If  I  only  receive  some  one,  my 
believing  and  receiving  that  will  make  it  the  right  one 


THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING.  21 

for  me ;  and  all  will  be  well,  no  matter  which  I  take. 
Is  not  this  the  precise  state  of  the  case  very  extensively 
in  the  community  ?  And  such  an  attitude  of  the  pop- 
ular mind  who  does  not  see  to  be  powerfully  adverse 
to  the  reception  of  God's  gospel  ?  The  essential  mis- 
chief and  the  virulent  efficacy  of  this  position,  and 
inclining  of  the  mind  of  the  people,  lies  here,  —  in  tiie 
fact,  that  it  is  a  sceptical  state  of  mind.  And,  Oh, 
what  influences  are  at  work  still  more  to  unsettle, 
to  throw  every  thing,  if  possible,  into  question  and 
doubt,  —  leading  to  the  rejection  of  principles  which 
have  been  established  almost  from  the  foundation  of 
the  world,  —  principles  and  verities  upon  which  all 
the  virtue  and  order  and  happiness  of  the  world 
hitherto  have  been  built,  —  principles  and  verities 
upheld  by  columns  of  evidence,  based  on  earth  and 
crowned  with  the  light  of  heaven,  —  columns  the 
ages  could  not  crumble,  which,  after  the  wear  of  the 
ages,  are  fresh  and  bright  still,  all  covered  with  God's 
inscriptions  —  reject  all  this,  and  then  turn  and  be- 
lieve what?  Believe  any  thing.  Believe  and  take 
down  just  what  any  arrogant  and  noisy  pretender 
chooses  to  put  down  them.  This  I  name  as  a  disease 
of  the  times, — the  rejecting  of  matters  which  stand 
on  solid  evidence,  and  the  receiving  of  matters  which 
have  the  merest  sham  of  evidence.  Matters  not  rel- 
ished, because  they  cross  the  depravity,  though  they 
come  with  demonstration,  many  say,  "  We  won't  have 
them."  Matters  which  come  with  a  novelty,  and  deal 
gently  with  the  depravity,  and  open  another  gate  than 
God's  contracted  one  to  go  out  from  our  troubles,  are 
received,  all  evidence  wanting.  This  consideration  is 
enough.     They  are  somewhat  new  and  various,  and  in 


22  THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING. 

some  of  their  aspects  or  appliances  quite  likely  to  suit. 
Now  bring  along  by  the  side  of  these  that  one  ancient 
and  immutable  thing,  —  the  glorious  gospel  of  the 
blessed  God,  which  utters  no  flatteries,  and  makes  no 
compromises  ;  which  goes  against  all  sin,  which  brings 
no  other  than  a  salvation  from  all  sin ;  and  wliich 
brings  every  receiver  of  it  into  a  conflict  and  exter- 
minating warfare  with  his  own  bosom  sins,  —  bring 
this  before  those  who  have  been  fascinated  and  be- 
witched with  these  other  kinds  and  the  accompanying 
pretensions  —  how  tame  and  stale,  crabbed,  antiquated, 
ungenial,  uncourteous,  because  unaccommodating. 
And  how  strong  the  chance,  in  such  conditions,  that 
God's  plan  —  salvation  by  the  cross  —  encounter  in- 
stant if  not  indignant  repulsion. 

4.  Ther€  is  another  matter  which  may  go  into  our 
detail  of  obstructive  causes.  It  is  found  in  the 
mental  conditions  increasingly  prevalent,  the  growing 
want  of  good  mental  habits.  These  may  be  character- 
ized as  getting  light,  superficial,  in  distinction  from 
the  patient  and  solid  ;  and  are  brought  about,  in  part, 
by  the  causes  already  enumerated,  by  the  multitude 
of  things  ever  revolving.  These  call  the  mind  out- 
ward, away  from  its  own  appropriate  place  and  work, 
—  earnest  thought  and  reflection.  The  reading  also 
contributes  to  the  same  unmanly  state.  As  a  general 
thing,  it  is  light,  —  not  invigorating  and  nutritious. 
There  is  brought  along,  first,  an  indiscriminating  state 
of  mind,  —  a  blurred  vision,  —  intellectual  eyes  which 
see  every  thing  in  a  sort  of  confused  and  muddy  con- 
glomeration. Another  thing  is  a  state  which  shrinks 
from  close  thought  and  veritalile  argument ;  conse- 
quently shows  but  little  patience  before  the  discourse 


THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING.  23 

which  asks  for  conthmed  thought  in  the  hearer.  This 
is  a  state  which  does  not  relish  substantial  preaching, 

—  intellect,  discussion,  matter  in  preaching,  —  because 
grown  incompetent  to  cope  with  such  things.  No  mind 
is  wanted  in  sermons,  because  no  mind  in  themselves  ; 
both  indisposed  and  incapacitated  ;  indisposed,  because 
incapacitated.  A  long  reach  of  massive  matter  threat- 
ens to  break  them  down.  A  chain  of  compact  reason- 
ing, forged  out,  linked  together,  and  directed  toward 
them  is  about  as  formidable  to  them  as  so  much  chain- 
shot.  How  much  there  is  of  this  mental  superficial- 
ness  and  imbecility,  one  almost  fears  to  know.  Very 
certain  it  has  been  advancing  upon  iis.  Hence  the 
call  in  many  quarters  for  smooth  and  easy  preaching, 

—  the  fine  and  popular  discourse,  made  pretty  and 
shining  by  a  liberal  lay  of  varnish  on  the  outside,  and 
all  the  better  for  not  having  much  of  any  thing  inside. 
In  carrying  out  this  plan  for  a  superficial  and  easy 
religion,  it  comes  very  natural  to  substitute  the  form 
for  the  power ;  a  routine  of  form  and  ceremony  is 
pretty  miich  the  whole  of  it.  Bodily  exercise,  crosses, 
genuflexions,  and  manifold  mummeries,  —  these  the 
religion,  what  has  efficacy,  what  saves.  Salvation, 
then,  is  mechanical,  —  no  heart  nor  intellect  in  it; 
no  heart  nor  intellect  required  to  produce  it.  Of 
course  here  is  no  place  for  preaching  that  is  such.  It 
is  not  wanted  ;  gradually  dies  out.  Here,  let  me  say, 
we  have  a  potent  influence,  working,  in  our  time, 
against  God's  chief  means  of  reform  and  redemption, 
and  working,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  even  amongst  the 
descendants  of  the  Puritans.  I  thought  God  made 
them  men  and  women,  not  supple  tools ;  endowed 
them  with  minds,  souls,  not  mere  knee-hinges.     This 


24  THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING. 

altar  tendency,  in  its  extreme  lurch,  goes,  if  not  to  ex- 
tinguish preaching,  utterly  to  cripple  the  power  of  it. 
There  are  minds,  souls,  of  the  Puritan  make,  who  will 
say  to  this  puerile  wave,  "  Hitherto,  and  no  further." 

Such  are  some  of  the  obstructions  to  the  gospel's 
due  power  existing  in  our  time,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
and  tending  to  diminish  the  just  measure  of  its  efficacy. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  Let  our  confidence  in  the  gospel, 
as  the  remedy  for  the  world's  ills,  diminish  correspond- 
ingly ?  No.  God  has  his  plan,  his  design ;  and  will 
have  his  time.  Though  it  may  look  dark  now  and 
then  for  his  cause,  and  other  schemes  and  doctrines 
stand  forward  in  the  popular  lead  ;  though  it  begins  to 
look  almost  as  though  the  gospel  had  had  its  day, 
done  well  in  its  time,  indeed,  but  now  has  grown  de- 
crepit, and  is  left  limpingly  and  far  in  the  rear  of  the 
floating  and  vaunting  banners  of  progress,  —  it  is  not 
so.  No:  it  is  God's;  and  God's  time  will  come,  and 
he  will  make  his  demonstration  ;  and  it  will  appear 
that  what  the  gospel  once  did,  it  can  do  >  again,  and 
on  a  wider  scale  than  ever  before,  —  working  on  a 
world-wide  scale  its  wonderful  and  redeeming  re- 
sults. This,  then,  is  to  be  done.  "Whatever  the 
obstructions,  whatever  the  delays,  we  are  to  be  hope- 
ful ;  having  full  confidence  in  the  gospel,  its  vitality 
and  conquering  efficacy,  wherever  in  faith  and  hope 
employed. 

I  can  only  indicate  two  or  three  particulars  it  will  be 
well  for  the  preacher  to  regard  in  his  use  of  the  gospel, 
if  he  would  make  it,  in  the  circumstances,  the  power 
of  God  unto  salvation.  1.  One  point  is,  that  he 
preach  this  gospel  in  its  immutable,  unimprovable  sub- 
stance ;  preach  God's  scheme  just  as  God  has  given 


THE   DIVERSIONS  FROM   PREACHING,  25 

it,  in  all  its  principles  and  applications,  never  adven- 
turing to  modify  or  diminish  aught ;  never  in  any  way 
to  adjust  the  message  to  the  clamors  of  any  popular 
demand,  or  to  soften  and  smooth  it  to  please  the  more 
fastidious  tastes.  This  we  may  settle  in  our  mind, — 
that  it  must  be  God's  gospel  if  it  is  to  go  with  his 
power. 

2.  Another  condition  is,  that  the  gospel  be  preached 
in  its  greatness,  its  mystery,  its  infinite  resource  of 
saving ;  that  it  be  preached  in  that  one  ascendant 
feature  of  it  which  alone  is  the  gospel,  —  which  de- 
nied or  reduced  there  is  no  gospel,  —  salvation  by 
the  Crucified.  Greatness  is  here :  the  eternal  Son 
given  for  the  life  of  the  world.  Mystery  is  here : 
God  the  Son  appearing  in  human  flesh.  Sacrificing 
love  is  here :  the  God-man,  in  the  sinner's  place, 
enduring  an  immeasurable  woe.  Here  is  that  which 
stands  out  separate  from  all  else  ;  transcends,  overtops, 
overmasters,  in  strangeness,  in  soul-grappling  interest, 
all  other  works  or  exhibitions  in  the  evolving  drama  of 
God's  affairs.  This  doctrine  of  the  cross  the  preacher 
is  to  greaten,  and  set  commandingly  forth ;  tax  all  the 
powers  of  his  heart  and  mind,  that  he  may  approximate 
to  do  it.  And  when  he  does,  it  stands  before  every 
man  in  supremacy  and  as  a  finality.  If  we  succeed  in 
bringing  out  the  glory  and  power  of  the  cross,  it  will  be 
a  power  unto  salvation.  This,  if  any  thing,  will  make 
men  pause  and  consider,  will  make  them  feel,  will 
encourage  faith  and  the  soul's  commitment  to  this 
foundation.  They  will  trust  their  souls'  vast  interests 
to  it  as  they  see  the  fountains  and  oceans  of  mercy 
opened  here  ;  and  they  will  not  dare  to  resist  and  put 
finally  from  them  the  crucified  Son  of  God. 


26  THE  DIVERSIONS  FROM   PREACHING. 

3.  In  order  to  present  such  a  truth  as  this,  and 
those  connected  with  it,  there  must  be  prayer,  study, 
the  mind's  utmost  tasking.  If  effectively  done,  it  must 
be  so  done ;  all  the  better  that  it  be  vigorously  intel- 
lectual, because  of  this  lighter,  popular  tendency.  Let 
there  be  at  least  this  counteraction,  — that  the  sermons 
are  able,  that  they  go  to  the  foundations,  that  they  show 
the  basis  and  the  reason  of  things,  be  inwrought  with 
thought,  fact,  substance ;  and,  in  connection  with  this 
solid  character,  that  they  be  fresh,  and  in  sympathy 
with  what  is  going  on,  dealing  with  the  actualities 
of  business  and  of  life ;  bearing  upon  the  very  men 
now  on  the  stage,  taking  them  in  their  present  modes 
of  thought  and  principles  of  action.  In  times  so 
flagrant,  and  so  crowded  with  resisting  and  diverting 
forces,  it  is  indispensable  that  the  preacher  become  a 
master  of  that  searching,  palpable,  business-like  style 
of  address  which  lays  its  significant  hand  upon  the 
living  and  throbbing  conscience,  making,  if  possible, 
every  conscience  such  that  chances  to  be  in  attend- 
ance. 

4.  And,  in  order  to  the  largest  and  best  results,  we 
say  further,  that  the  preaching  must  be  with  authority  : 
it  must  come  to  the  souls  of  the  people  with  the  in- 
finite sanctions  of  Almighty  God,  —  life  if  you  obey, 
death  if  you  refuse.  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved  ; 
he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned.  There  is  power 
in  such  words  as  these.  True,  many  are  coming  not 
to  like  them,  some  not  to  endure  them,  but  are  bold 
to  order  away  from  their  ears  the  disturbing  sounds ; 
and  not  a  few  so-called  good  people  would  have  the 
preacher  of  this  gospel,  considering  the  prejudices  so 
rife,  very  sparing  in  these  ultimate  and  appalling  utter- 


THE   DIVERSIONS   FROM   PREACHING.  27 

ances.  But  no,  thou  man  of  God  :  yield  to  no  such 
miserable  squeamishness.  Give  no  place  to  the  sickly 
and  puling  philanthropy  abroad.  Go  forth  with  a 
sound  and  an  honest  heart,  —  a  heart  tender  in  its 
spirit,  but  oaken  in  its  fidelity,  not  keeping  back 
where  God  has  put  forward,  knowing  well  that  your 
power  is  not  in  your  own  discretion,  but  in  the  woid, 
the  arm,  the  Spirit  of  Him  who  sends  you. 

This  pulpit  *  has  a  most  favorable  record,  in  the 
past,  of  loyalty  to  the  divine  and  also  of  fidelity  to  the 
human.  Men  strong  and  true  have  ever  stood  in  it. 
May  our  brother  who  is  to  succeed  in  this  ministry 
carry  forward  the  work  so  auspiciously  begun !  We 
ask  for  him  that  he  may  have  a  growing  experience  of 
the  gospel,  and  from  the  fountain  within  be  prepared 
to  preach  it  with  all  confidence  as  the  power  of  God,  — 
ever  loving  to  set  forth  in  their  simple  majesty  those 
truths  which  are  vitally  and  essentially  the  gospel, 
which  have  been  so  regarded  through  the  ages,  and 
that  have  wrought  so  signally,  and  accumulated  all 
along  down,  uncounted  trophies ;  and  built  these  into 
columns  and  pyramids  of  demonstration,  showing 
them  to  be  of  God.  This  is  not  the  gospel  to  be 
ashamed  of,  nor  this  the  time.  Be  it  our  trust,  our 
joy,  our  instrument  still  of  conquest  and  achievement ; 
and  may  this  particular  field  into  which  our  brother 
now  enters  give  perpetually  fresh  proofs  of  its  trans- 
forming efficacy ! 

*  That  of  the  Third  Church,  Portland,  Maine. 


III. 

THE  ECLIPSED  LUMINARY. 

If^  therefore,  the  light  that  is  in  thee  he  darkness,  how  great  is 
that  darkness.  —  Matt.  vi.  23. 

OUR  Saviour,  in  this  connection,  brings  an  illustra- 
tion from  the  eye.  ^  thine  eye  he  single,  —  that  is, 
if  it  be  sound,  healthy,  —  thy  whole  body  will  he  full  of 
light.  The  individual  will  perceive  clearly,  and  walk 
correctly ;  he  will  be  not  only  a  light  to  himself,  but  a 
safe  guide  to  others. 

But  if  the  eye  is  diseased,  double,  wavering,  then 
the  whole  body  is  full  of  darkness.  Every  thing  is 
confused ;  and  the  individual  not  only  stumbles  him- 
self, but  all  who  depend  upon  him,  or  follow  him, 
stumble  likewise. 

The  light  in  a  person,  strictly  speaking,  is  reason 
and  conscience,  —  his  intellectual  and  moral  nature. 

The  conscience  corrected,  and  the  heart  purified  by 
truth,  enable  him  both  to  see  and  to  shine.  The  light 
of  truth,  of  conscience,  and  a  holy  character  ex- 
tinguished, the  darkness,  —  put  where  there  was,  and 
where  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case  there  should 
be,  light,  put  instead  of  light,  —  becomes  truly  very 
great  darkness.  The  principle,  then,  is  simply  this:  If 
where  light  was  and  light   should  be,   there  is   put 


THE    ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  29 

darkness,  the  darkness  is  very  great.  To  one  who  has 
always  been  blessed  with  vision,  who  has  looked  freely 
forth  upon  all  the  beauties  and  wonders  of  nature  and 
art,  and  who  has  always  directed  at  will  his  own  steps, 
but  whose  sight  should  be  suddenly  destroyed,  and 
darkness  at  once  fill  and  surround  him,  —  to  him  who 
is  the  subject  of  the  calamity,  and  remembers  the  con- 
trast, how  great  the  darkness.  Or,  take  the  case  of  one 
who  has  been  spiritually  enlightened,  —  enlightened 
from  above,  —  who  was  filled  with  light,  and  became  a 
body  of  light  to  others,  —  let  all  that  light  be  put  out, 
and  darkness  take  its  place,  how  great  is  that  darkness. 

This  is  the  sentiment  I  propose  to  illustrate  at  the 
present  time :  That  when  the  Christian  ceases  to  shine, 
and  darkness  comes  in  the  place  of  his  light,  it  is  very 
great  darkness.  This  is  a  case  which  not  unfrequently 
occurs.  It  is  often  an  actual  condition  of  things.  But, 
if  a  true  Christian,  the  dimness,  the  darkness,  are 
but  temporary  ;  the  foulness  will  be  purged  out,  the 
cloud  will  pass  away,  and  he  will  yet  shine  on  earth, 
and  shine  yet  brighter  in  heaven. 

It  is  a  sad  truth,  implied  in  our  text  and  stated  in 
our  proposition,  that  the  Christian  does  become  dark- 
ness in  the  world  sometimes  ;  and  the  process  is  an 
easy  one,  and  easily  explained.  If  his  faith  is  not 
corrupted,  the  great  objects  of  his  faith  pass  from  his 
view ;  rather,  he  turns  away  from  them  ;  they  are  lost 
sight  of  for  a  season.  Then  his  conscience  falls  into 
slumber,  the  heart  grows  callous  and  is  soon  defiled. 
Thus,  becoming  corrupt  and  worldly  within,  he  is 
irregular  and  disobedient  without ;  his  conduct  is  a 
departure  from  the  spirit  and  the  precepts  of  the  gospel ; 
his  life  is  wanting  in  all  the  clear  manifestations  of 


30  THE   ECLIPSED  LUmNART. 

godliness.     While  the  fact  of  the  change  is  thus  sad, 
the  effects  of  it  are  far  more  so. 

The  Christian  changed  from  light  to  darkness,  —  how 
great  is  that  darkness .   This  appears,  if  we  consider,  — 

I.  In  the  first  place,  the  mere  negative  loss  in  his 
forbearing  to  let  his  light  shine.  He  has  been  made 
a  luminous  body,  but  he  has  ceased  to  shine.  How 
much  need  of  his  light  in  the  scene  in  which  he  moves. 
How  much  darkness  to  be  removed ;  how  little  moral 
light  shed  for  its  removal ;  how  much  good  he  would 
do  by  steadily  shining ;  how  much  did  he  do  in  tho 
days  of  his  soundness  and  integrity.  The  world  are 
reminded  of  truth  and  duty,  and  the  way  to  gain  God's 
favor  and  final  acceptance.  They  are  made  to  see 
that  there  is  a  difference  between  him  that  serveth  God, 
and  him  that  serveth  him  not.  They  see  the  power  of 
the  religious  principle,  —  the  excellence  and  the  love- 
liness of  true  piety.  Impressions  are  made  that  are 
abiding.  Some  are  convinced  and  won  to  the  way  of 
life  ;  the  clear  and  beautiful  shining  of  that  disciple 
at  once  draws  them,  and  illumines  the  way  of  their 
return  to  God.  Many  may  be  —  yea,  often  are  — drawn 
to  the  path  of  peace  by  the  attractive  radiance  of  the 
pure,  faithful  disciple. 

Another  consideration  is  the  great  expense  at  which 
he  was  prepared  to  shine.  He  who  was  the  brightness 
of  the  Father's  glory,  and  who  is  now  the  light  of  the 
world,  came  down  to  the  earth,  and  died  upon  the 
cross,  that  the  sins  of  that  disciple  might  be  blotted 
out,  that  the  Spirit  might  be  sent  to  renew  his  nature, 
and  so  fit  him  to  reflect  the  beams  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness,  and  be  a  living  light  in  his  sphere. 


THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINAET.  31 

But  when  he  ceases  to  shine,  all  that  expense  is  so  far 
lost.  Christ's  object  in  dying  for  him,  and  changing 
him  by  his  Spirit,  was  not  to  save  his  single,  solitary 
soul,  but  that  he  should  be  an  agent  in  saving  others. 
But  when  he  ceases  to  shine,  he  ceases  to  do  any  good 
in  the  world.  All  the  blessed  effects  we  have  con- 
sidered, cease.  There  is  a  great  and  sad  loss,  —  a  loss 
in  part  of  the  Saviour's  death  for  him,  and  the  Saviour's 
work  of  renovation  upon  his  heart ;  a  loss,  utterly, 
of  all  the  good  impressions  and  saving  reformations 
which  might  and  ought  to  have  been  produced  by  the 
power  of  his  shining,  the  light  of  his  example.  In 
view,  then,  of  the  negative  consideration,  the  mere  loss 
experienced,  we  may  begin  to  exclaim,  how  great  the 
darkness.  But  the  exclamation  becomes  more  em- 
phatic when  we  consider,  — 

II.  In  the  next  place,  some  of  the  positive  evils  in  the 
case.  It  is  not  a  simple  subtraction  of  so  much  good 
which  might  have  been  done,  —  because  there  is  no 
neutrality  in  inj&uence.  He  that  is  not  for  Christ  is 
against  him.  If  we  gather  not  with  him,  we  scatter 
abroad.  If  we  shed  not  light,  we  shed  darkness  ;  and 
how  great  must  be  that  darkness. 

Because  it  is  a  very  conspicuous  darkness,  a  dark- 
ness peculiarly  visible.  It  is  so  on  account  of  the 
change  which  has  occurred.  Yesterday,  it  is  re- 
membered, he  was  a  shining  body ;  to-day,  it  is  seen, 
he  is  obscured,  and  sheds  no  ray.  A  change  so  great 
as  from  light  to  darkness  is  a  very  notable  change. 
Multitudes  who  gave  little  heed  to  the  shining  of  that 
Christian  are  all  eagerness  and  wonder  the  moment 
he  ceases  to  shine.  Thus  it  becomes  a  peculiarly  visi- 
ble darkness. 


32  THE  ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

It  is  an  incongruous,  unnatural  darkness,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  a  body  of  light,  so  to  speak,  radiating  darkness. 
How  strange  !  what  has  happened  ?  Who  can  account 
for  so  monstrous  a  phenomenon  ?  Were  it  the  dark- 
ness of  night,  it  would  not  be  thought  of ;  it  would  be 
congenial,  and  all  would  go  to  their  repose.  But  it  is 
the  darkness  of  an  eclipse,  —  how  much  greater  in  its 
effects  than  the  darkness  of  the  thickest  night.  To 
have  the  sun  pass  out  of  sight  in  the  order  of  nature, 
is  a  trifle.  But  to  have  him  turned  into  blackness  in 
his  meridian  position ;  to  have  night,  as  it  were,  issuing 
from  the  face  of  the  king  of  day,  —  fills  all  minds  with 
amazement. 

When  the  Christian  becomes  darkness,  it  is  the 
darkness  of  an  ecUj)sed  luminary ;  and  we  know  that 
men  will  gaze  at  such  a  sight,  all  eyes  will  centre 
there.  How  wonderful  was  the  scene  of  the  sun's 
momentary  utter  extinction  which  occurred  early  in 
the  present  century.  All  eyes,  at  that  instant,  were 
directed  upward ;  the  interest  growing  more  and  more 
intense  as  the  darkness  spread  over  the  disc  of  the 
great  luminary,  until  the  last  ray  went  out,  when  an 
involuntary  shuddering  seized  every  heart.  The  light 
that  was  in  the  sun  then  became  darkness ;  and  who 
that  saw  it  has  forgotten,  and  yet  who  can  describe 
how  great  was  that  darkness  ? 

The  vividness  of  the  impression  which  this  sort  of 
darkness  makes  is  another  consideration  to  be  put 
into  the  estimate.  It  so  infixes  itself  in  the  memory, 
the  world  gaze  and  never  forget ;  they  carry,  it  may 
be,  the  recollection  to  hell  with  them,  and  there  curse 
for  ever  the  memory  of  these  eclipsed  luminaries. 

It  is  a  darkness  the  wicked  love  to  look  at  and  feed 


THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  33 

upon ;  they  seem  to  have  an  intense  relish  for  it. 
Like  the  owl  at  heavy  midnight,  they  strain  and  dis- 
tend their  utmost  capacity  of  vision,  that  they  may 
drink  in  the  congenial  gloom.  Not  only  do  they  love 
an  interpretation  of  the  Bible  which  blots  out  all  the 
distinctive  glory  and  searching  meaning  of  this  book,  — 
they  love,  much  more,  a  comment  in  the  life  of  the 
disciple  which  contradicts  the  voice,  or  mitigates  the 
light,  issuing  from  these  holy  pages. 

But  I  have  not  said  the  whole  about  this  darkness. 
Not  only  is  it  a  conspicuous  darkness,  an  incon- 
gruous, unnatural  darkness,  an  impressive  darkness, 
an  attractive  darkness,  —  it  is  injurious  upon  the  course 
of  the  world,  fatal  to  the  souls  of  men.  We  have 
seen,  first,  that  it  is  a  sight  which  brings  all  eyes  to 
behold  it ;  then  it  brings  destruction  upon  multitudes 
who  do  behold  it. 

The  influence  of  the  lapsed,  obscured  Christian 
goes  to  accomplish  all  this  mischief,  because  it  tends  to 
unsettle  the  minds  of  men  as  to  the  truth  of  religion, 
and  of  all  the  great  doctrines  of  religion.  His  own 
principles  become  unsound,  and  this  is  the  darkening 
of  his  own  mind ;  then  he  diffuses  these  unsound 
principles,  and  so  darkens  others.  His  standing,  as  a 
disciple  of  Christ,  enables  him  to  do-  it.  He  gives 
currency  to  error,  to  false  doctrine,  as  he  could  not 
do  in  other  circumstances  ;  for  he  is  clothed  with  a 
species  of  authority  for  his  "work  of  corruption  and 
ruin.  He  strikes  a  heavy  blow,  and  it  falls  upon  the 
very  foundations.  The  sentiment  is  deposited  in  the 
breasts  of  many,  to  work  there  silent  and  deadly,  that 
there  is  no  reality  in  religion  ;  it  is  an  empty  cheat ; 
this  great  spiritual  change  so  much  talked  about  is 

3 


34  THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

nought  but  delusion  ;  it  has  no  power  upon  the  char- 
acter, nothing  permanent  in  the  results. 

But  his  influence  goes  not  only  to  corrupt  the  prin- 
ciples of  men ;  it  corrupts  also  the  practice.  Such  an 
one  leads  the  way  in  bad  practice.  He  authenticates 
and  gives  currency  to  disobedience,  the  breaking 
down  of  God's  laws.  If  he  is  a  Sabbath-breaker,  he 
brings,  so  far  as  he  can,  the  authority  of  Christ  and 
his  religion  to  sanction  Sabbath-breaking ;  if  fraiidu- 
lent,  to  sanction  fraud ;  if  impure,  to  sanction  impu- 
rity. So  he  propagates  his  misdeeds ;  he  rears  up  and 
draws  after  him  a  train  to  do  as  he  does  ;  and  then  to 
shelter  themselves  from  rebukes  without,  and  goad- 
ings  within,  under  the  wing  of  his  religious  profession, 
under  the  authority  of  his  Christian  life. 

It  is  true,  the  Bible  speaks  differently,  yea,  opposite- 
ly :  if  these  followers  of  the  blind  guides  would  go  there, 
they  would  be  instructed  and  corrected.  But  the 
Christian's  life  —  the  spirit,  the  conduct  of  the  profes- 
sor of  godliness  —  is  all  the  bible  multitudes  ever  read. 
Here  the  page  they  gaze  upon ;  here  the  text  they 
quote  ;  here  the  authority  they  bow  to.  They  get  tlieir 
impressions  and  notions  here,  and  so  walk  according 
to  this  rule.  Some  are  made  sceptics  ;  the  lapsed 
Christian's  life,  the  argument,  the  dark  demonstra- 
tion which  has  turned  them  into  infidels,  and  profane 
and  bitter  revilers.  Others  say,  "  If  that  be  religion, 
we  wish  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  if  that  be  a 
state  of  grace,  the  Lord  grant  that  we  may  live  and 
die  in  a  state  of  nature."  Others  are  put  perfectly  at 
rest  on  the  great  question  of  salvation.  They  think 
they  see  so  little  difference  between  men  of  the  Church 
and  men  of  the  world,  there  is  very  little  ground  for 


THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  35 

alarm.  If  the  former  are  safe,  the  latter  cannot  be  in 
any  great  danger.  God  certainly  will  not  predicate 
opposite  destinies  upon  distinctions  of  character  too 
small  and  too  faint  to  be  seen.  Others,  who  feel  some 
solicitude  about  their  souls,  and  try  somewliat  for  a 
better  state,  know  not  whither  to  go,  nor  what  they 
must  become.  The  way  is  all  dark  to  them.  They 
wander  wearily  about,  and  find  no  Saviour,  no  hope. 
They  fix  their  eye,  it  may  be,  upon  some  dim,  doubtful 
disciple,  in  order  that  their  case  may  be  an  easy  one ; 
and  then  settle  down  upon  something  short  of  Christ. 
There  can  be  no  question  but  one  false  hope  begets 
another.  A  low,  uncertain  character  for  godliness  prop- 
agates its  kind.  The  consequence  is,  that  many  who 
seem  to  set  out  for  heaven  lose  their  way,  and  lose 
their  souls.  How  sad  that  the  person  who  should 
have  illumined  his  path,  and  led  him  onward  and  up- 
ward, was  the  dark  impediment  over  which  he  stumbled 
and  perished.  Had  that  Oliristian  been  a  light  in  his 
sphere,  that  friend,  that  neighbor,  would  have  gone  to 
heaven :  his  light  being  darkness,  that  friend,  that 
neighbor,  went  to  hell.  How  great  was  that  darkness. 
Suppose,  now,  that  all  the  Christians  in  a  given  place 
were  like  him,  —  the  entire  Church  in  that  place  ob- 
scured, all  her  light  put  out,  all  distinctive  truth 
blotted  from  her  creed,  and  silenced  in  her  pulpit,  and 
wiped  from  the  life  of  her  members  ;  and  error  and 
dishonesty,  and  all  forms  of  ungodliness,  put  instead, 
and  going  forth,  as  it  were,  under  heaven's  great  seal,  — 
who  can  estimate  the  condition,  or  paint  the  blackness, 
of  that  darkness  ?  We  call  it  a  sad  condition  in  a 
community,  if  there  is  nothing  in  favor  of  religion, — 
no  lights  alluring  to  heaven,  no  lives  speaking  for  God 


36  THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

and  the  soul,  no  characters  that  are  living  arguments 
for  his  truth  and  cause.  But  infinitely  more  sad,  if 
every  thing  in  the  name  and  form  and  profession  of 
religion  goes  directly  to  discredit  religion ;  the  lives 
which  should  be  arguments  in  favor  of  God's  truth  and 
cause  are  all  arguments  against  it ;  the  influences 
which  should  press  toward  heaven  become  not  merely 
negative,  but  push  positively  and  mightily  toward  hell. 
Native,  full-grown,  unregenerated  sinners  are  com- 
paratively harmless,  let  them  constitute  the  great  mass 
of  a  population:  but  this  regeneration  backward; 
this  falsifying  the  true  and  the  holy  ;  this  putting  out 
light  and  putting  on  darkness  instead,  making  men 
doubt,  making  them  disbelieve,  making  them  stumble, 
solemnly  authenticating  the  way  to  hell,  —  giving  a 
sort  of  sacredness  to  the  broad  road,  and  giving  to 
multitudes,  not  the  baptism  of  fire,  but  a  baptism,  a 
sealing,  for  the  fire  which  shall  never  be  quenched, — 
what  mind  other  than  the  Infinite  Mind  can  take  in  the 
whole  extent  of  the  evil  ? 

I  have  made  the  supposition  of  a  church  all  turned 
to  darkness,  and  drawn  the  picture,  and  presented  it 
to  your  imagination,  that  you  may  see  and  feel  and 
exclaim,  How  great  the  darkness.  In  making  some 
remarks  upon  this  sentiment  and  discussion,  it  comes 
very  obviously  to  speak,  — 

1.  In  the  first  place,  of  the  responsibility  of  the 
Christian,  —  his  responsibility  as  one  always  in  view, 
belonging  to  a  city  set  on  an  hill,  having  no  neutrality, 
always  either  for  his  Master  or  against  him ;  always 
shedding  either  light  or  darkness  ;  if  darkness,  — 
darkness  of  a  strange  and  destructive  sort ;  —  his  re- 
sponsibility as  one  shut  up  to  this  necessity,  and  to 


THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  37 

abide  under  it  for  ever.  He  may  go  back,  but  he  never 
can  get  back  to  be  a  simple,  original,  impenitent  sin- 
ner as  he  once  was.  That  condition  was  comparatively 
a  negative  one.  Now  he  is  chained  to  the  necessity 
of  doing,  in  a  pre-eminent  sense,  positive  good  or  evil. 
He  is  professedly  regenerated ;  and  it  will  be  in  its 
fruits,  in  a  pre-eminent  degree,  a  regeneration  for 
heaven  or  hell.  Tliere  is  a  great  responsibility  in  this 
sort  of  necessity  abiding  upon  him,  and  holding  him, 
as  with  links  of  adamant,  to  these  immense  conse- 
quences. If  he  is  right  in  heart,  right  in  life,  —  living 
devotedly  to  him  who  died  to  save,  —  every  thing  — 
time,  talents,  property  —  consecrated  to  the  cause  of  re- 
demption, there  is  no  telling  what  his  Lord  may  enable 
him  to  do.  Some  vast  tract  of  desert  may  become, 
through  him,  a  well-watered  garden  ;  some  hundreds, 
perhaps  thousands,  of  souls  may  stand  up  in  heaven, 
and  point  to  him  as  the  author,  under  God,  of  their 
mighty  joys.  If  he  pursue  the  other  course,  the  con- 
sequences will  be  equally  vast  and  interminable,  but 
directly  the  opposite.  Darkness  will  take  the  place  of 
the  light,  death  eternal  the  place  of  the  life  eternal. 
Oh  the  guilt  of  the  perversion,  the  responsibility  of 
the  substitution.  He  who  substitutes  a  base  coin  for 
a  pure  one  does  a  slight  injury.  He  who  puts  a 
deadly  potion  in  the  place  of  a  healthful  beverage 
does  a  great  wrong,  and  incurs  a  heavy  responsibility. 
He  who  extinguishes  the  beacon  light  on  the  rock-bound 
coast,  amid  the  raging  of  the  midnight  storm,  putting 
darkness  before  the  mariner's  eye  and  despair  in  the 
mariner's  heart,  brings  upon  himself  greater  guilt  and 
a  weightier  doom.  But  he  who  puts  out  the  light  of 
truth  and  of  a  holy  example,  and  puts  instead  the 


38  ■     THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

darkness  of  gospel  error  and  Christian  sinning,  caus- 
ing multitudes  to  make  shipwreck  of  faith  and  of  their 
souls  too,  —  that  person,  with  the  vows  of  God  upon 
him,  goes  up  higher,  far  higher,  in  the  scale  of  guilt, 
and  will  go,  unless  he  repent,  far  lower  in  the  gulf 
of  fire  beneath.  How  solemn,  awful  almost,  the  Chris- 
tian's responsibility.  Let  me  die  and  go  alone  to  my 
place,  rather  than  administer  to  any  such  results  as 
these. 

But  there  is  no  reason  to  shrink  or  be  afraid.  There 
is  grace  enough  in  Christ ;  strength  enough  there : 
you  shall  not  ask  for  it  in  vain.  There  is  light  enough 
in  that  great  Luminary  of  the  world  and  the  Universe. 
Go,  live  riglit  under  those  beams,  and  you  shall  have 
light.  We  are  only  to  go  to  the  fountain  there  and 
take  care  of  the  fountain  here,  and  we  shall  be  full  of 
light,  and  spread  light,  and  do  better  for  our  Master 
than  we  sometimes  have  done. 

2.  I  remark,  secondly,  we  see  how  it  comes  to  pass, 
that  the  faults,  the  sins,  the  derelictions  of  Christians 
and  the  Church,  are  so  commonly  exaggerated  by  men 
of  the  world.  It  seems,  from  what  is  said  often  in 
this  quarter,  that  there  is  very  little  that  is  just  or 
lovely  or  of  good  report  in  the  Church,  and  every 
thing  in  it  that  is  dishonest,  contentious,  and  hateful ; 
there  is  hypocrisy  there,  and  every  form  and  style  of 
villany,  —  a  very  corrupt  concern.  Now  this  is  gross 
and  injurious  falsehood,  to  be  attributed,  in  part,  to 
the  world's  hatred  of  godliness.  They  first  wish  to 
have  it  so,  then  they  make  it  so.  And  they  are  helped 
to  make  it  so  by  the  operation  of  the  principle  in  our 
text. 

The  sinning  of  Christ's  subjects  is  very  conspicuous 


THE    ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  39 

sinning :  tlie  sinning  of  the  devil's  subjects,  very 
mncli  more  out  of  sight.  In  this  latter  case,  it  is  a 
kingdom  of  darkness ;  they  are  deeds  of  darkness, 
done  in  an  atmosphere  of  darkness.  Who  sees,  or 
cares,  or  says  any  thing  about  it  ?  But,  in  the  latter 
case,  it  being  darkness  in  a  luminous  body,  as  we  have 
shown,  it  is  clearly  visible ;  and  the  strangeness  and 
incongruity  of  the  thing  bring  all  men  to  stare  at  it. 
We  know  that  a  little  spot  in  the  sun  gets  more  notice 
than  all  the  sun's  brightness ;  one  single  hour  of 
eclipse  induces  more  attention,  more  talk,  than  ten 
years  of  his  glorious  shining.  Here,  now,  is  the  prin- 
ciple. Hence  it  comes,  that  the  Church  suffers  so 
greatly  from  small  departures,  limited  offences  ;  hence, 
if  one  member  suffers,  all  suffer  with  it ;  if  one  is 
charged  with  sin,  all,  in  a  sense,  are  charged  with 
the  same.  The  one  sin  becomes  multiplied  into  a 
hundred  sins.  The  little  dim  spot  is  spread  and 
stretched,  till  it  seems  to  cover  the  whole  body  with 
blackness. 

It  is  admitted  there  is  wrong  in  the  Church ;  but  I 
rejoice  to  know  that  the  wrong,  in  most  instances,  is 
as  nothing  compared  with  what  many  in  the  world 
.would  make  it.  It  is  admitted  there  is  not  all  the 
truth  and  righteousness  in  the  Church  that  there  should 
be,  and  will  be ;  but  I  rejoice  in  the  fact,  that  there 
is  more  there  than  in  all  other  places  beside.  I  do  be- 
lieve this  is  a  fact :  indeed,  I  believe  that  nearly  all  the 
heaven-accepted  righteousness  on  the  earth  is  in  the 
Church ;  though  there  be  some  darkness  in  her,  still 
nearly  all  the  light  is  there.  And  yet  it  is  true,  that 
vast  multitudes  go  down  to  destruction  because  Chris- 
tians and  the  Church  are  not  what  they  should  be. 


40  THE  ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

3.  I  wish  to  make  a  third  remark  on  this  fact ;  first, 
give  the  reason  of  it,  and  then,  show  that  there  is  no 
reason  in  it.  The  reason  of  this  fact,  that  so  many- 
perish  on  account  of  the  inconsistencies  of  Christians, 
is  found  in  the  principle  of  our  text,  —  how  great  the 
darkness.  It  may  be  in  itself  a  little  spot ;  yet  it  fills 
the  whole  of  that  perverse  eye,  so  that  it  can  see 
nought  but  darkness.  The  consequence  is,  religion  is 
not  recommended,  but  stands  dishonored  before  him. 
He  rejects  it,  perhaps  he  scorns  it ;  he  keeps  his  sin, 
he  comforts  himself  in  his  rebellion ;  and  in  the  end 
he  is  a  ruined  being.  This  is  the  reason  of  his  course. 
But,  as  I  said,  there  is  no  reason  in  it,  because  the 
Church  is  not  the  ultimate  standard.  Christians  are 
not  the  Bible,  after  all,  though  they  be  the  only  bible 
multitudes  read.  God  has  another  bible  back  of  them, 
and  that  is  the  bible  God  will  support,  —  that  the 
standard  he  will  bring  and  hold  men  to,  and  judge 
them  by.  His  professed  disciples  may  falsify  every 
page,  every  doctrine,  every  precept ;  but  that  does  not 
make  it  false.  It  abides  notwithstanding,  and  will 
abide,  as  eternal  truth ;  its  promises,  its  threaten- 
ings,  its  uttered  doom,  will  be  accomplished.  Now, 
cannot  rational  men  see,  have  they  not  sense  enough 
to  see,  that  this  is  the  standard  they  ought  to  come  to  ? 
Though  all  the  Church  were  unmitigated  blackness, 
there  is  light  here.  Does  not  the  caviller  see  it  is  not 
enough  that  he  has  reasoned  down  the  Christian's  life  ? 
There  is  no  safety  for  him  till  he  has  gone  beyond  and 
reasoned  down  the  Bible ;  not  only  blotted  out  the  ar- 
guments arising  from  the  Christian's  practice,  but 
blotted  out  the  arguments,  also,  embodied  in  God's 
great  and  authoritative  sayings.     Even  then,  in  this  ex- 


THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY.  41 

treme  supposition  that  it  is  all  darkness  on  our  part, 
where  is  the  reason  of  the  caviller's  course  ?  There  is 
none,  —  it  is  madness. 

Take,  now,  the  case  as  it  is.  Christians,  as  a  body, 
do  not  falsify  the  Bible.  Certainly  there  are  those 
who  illustrate  all  its  spirit  and  tcacliing ;  there  are 
many  who  do  this.  They  are  lights  in  the  world  ;  they 
perfect  and  point  and  clinch  the  Bible  argument. 
They  speak  in  their  life,  as  God  speaks  in  his  Word. 
Is  there  any  reason,  I  ask,  in  making  all  this  nothing  ? 
—  all  this  light  nothing  ?  —  all  the  sun's  shining  noth- 
ing, his  spots  every  thing  ?  God  calls  attention  to 
this  light.  Men  choose  the  darkness ;  they  might 
walk  to  heaven  in  this  light ;  there  is  enough  of  it,  and 
more  than  enough.  They  prefer  to  wrap  themselves 
up  in  the  darkness  they  find,  and  in  that  go  down  to 
death.  They  allow  one  professor's  life  that  is  wrong, 
to  sway  them  more  than  ten  or  twenty  Christian  lives 
that  are  right.  Is  there  any  reason  in  this  ?  Ye  men 
of  reason  and  understanding,  is  there  any  ? 

How  this  course  must  appear  hereafter.  I  have 
thought,  sometimes,  how  the  lost  must  feel  when  they 
look  back*  and  consider  on  what  foolish  grounds 
they  went  to  hell ;  with  what  contemptible  sophis- 
try they  were  led  on;  with  what  meagre,  miserable 
bait  they  allowed  the  devil  to  take  them. 

0  my  friends,  this  is  far-reaching  business.  You 
are  fast  moving  to  the  eternal  scene :  there  you  will 
encounter  a  most  searching  light ;  there  you  will  have 
to  do,  not  with  fables,  but  with  the  verities  of  God's 
unchanging  word ;  there  you  will  meet,  not  shadows, 
but  solid  and  overwhelming  realities.  Look  now  to 
the  right  things.     Yield  to  the  dictates  of  reason,  and 


42  THE   ECLIPSED   LUMINARY. 

to  the  urgencies  of  the  gospel,  and  seek  the  things 
which  are  above,  and  perish  not  from  that  high  posi- 
tion you  occupy,  of  light  and  privilege  and  hallowed 
influence.  If  you  do,  yours  will  be  a  most  fearful 
doom. 


IV. 

SALVATION  IN  NO  OTHER. 

Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other :  for  there  is  none 
other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men,  whereby  we 
must  be  saved.  —  Acts  iv.  12. 

SALVATION,  our  deliverance  from  sin  and  death, 
the  condition  on  which  hangs  the  vast  and  hidden 
future,  —  on  no  subject,  perhaps,  are  people  more  ready 
to  listen  to  announcements  than  on  this ;  and  on  this 
we  might  come  forth  to  you  with  at  once  various  and 
variant  announcements. 

I  might  come,  gravely  announcing  to  you,  that  this 
salvation  is  a  matter  in  which  you  have  no  respon- 
sibility, and  you  are  in  no  danger  of  missing  it ;  for 
God  who  gave  his  Son  will  make  it  sure  that  every 
creature  of  his  involved  in  sin,  be  a  sharer  in  this 
salvation :  God  will  bring  you  all  to  it.  Thus  to 
announce  and  say  would  bring  the  announcer  and 
promulger  into  favor  with  a  large  class,  and  they 
would  concede  to  him  the  quality  of  liberalness  or 
generousness.  But,  really,  does  it  not  look  as  though 
he  had  very  much  overdone  the  thing,  transcended  the 
record,  in  making  this  absolutely  unlimited  announce- 
ment? 

But  suppose  that  he,  or  some  one  succeeding  him, 


44  SALVATION   IN   NO    OTHER. 

puts  in  some  sort  of  restriction,  announciiig  that 
while  you  must  have  some  Saviour,  Patron,  or  Helper, 
must  proceed  on  some  mode  of  duty  or  service,  still 
you  may  make  your  choice,  —  choose  a  divine  or 
human  Saviour,  christian  or  pagan ;  or,  discarding 
all  systems  and  all  helpers,  do  the  whole  within  your- 
self, in  your  own  way  ;  do  it  by  penance  or  by  benefi- 
cence ;  only  do  something  according  to  your  own 
judgment  and  aptness. 

It  might  be  pleasant  to  approach  you  in  this  line  of 
liberalness  or  proximate  free-thinking,  giving  all  this 
choice  or  scope  to  people,  as  to  the  grounds,  conditions, 
modes  of  being  saved.  Certainly  in  many  quarters  it 
is  even  the  demand  of  the  people.  But  we  have  a  higher 
allegiance.  We  have  to  deal  with  fact  and  truth  as 
God  has  put  it.  We  have  to  state  salvation  in  the 
terms,  the  conditions,  in  which  the  Infinite  Author  of 
it  presents  it  to  the  acceptance  of  the  race.  And  ac- 
cording to  this  Authority  it  is  by  one  name  and  way. 
The  system  or  scheme  is  one  of  rigid  limitation,  made 
absolutely  exclusive  by  the  apostle  through  a  most 
emphatic  asseveration :  Neither  is  there  salvation  in 
any  other :  for  there  is  none  other  name  under  heaven 
given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved.  The 
meaning  of  this  cannot  be  mistaken.  It  means  that 
there  is  only  one  way  by  which  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
be  saved,  and  that  is  by  Christ. 

This  statement  or  sentiment  so  plainly  laid  down,  is 
it  to  be  proved  by  us  ?  If  that  is  asked,  then  we  prove 
it. 

1.  We  prove  it  by  the  words  that  declare  it.  Enough 
for  the  believer  in  God's  Word,  that  his  Word  so 
teaches  and  affirms,  that  there  is  salvation  in  no  other; 


SALVATION   IN   NO    OTHER.  45 

that  there  is  no  other  fouiidatiou,/(3r  other  can  no  man 
lay  than  that  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ. 

2.  The  other  proof  is  drawn  from  the  salvation 
itself:  that  this  necessarily  is  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
other  schemes. 

We  first  consider  God's  gift  and  sacrifice  in  the 
premises.  He  gave  his  Son,  —  gave  him  to  luimilia- 
tion  and  death.  We  next  consider  Christ's  position  be- 
fore he  came  to  our  world,  who  and  what  he  was ;  the 
greatness,  the  infiniteness,  the  supremacy  pertaining 
to  him.  We  consider  what  he  parted  with ;  what  he 
endured ;  how  he  laid  off  the  glory,  took  the  infirmity, 
became  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief. 
We  read  the  description  of  him,  as  xiniquely  and  sub- 
limely constituted,  —  God  in  human  flesh,  —  the  God- 
man.  We  read  the  description  of  what  came  upon 
him,  what  was  laid  upon  him,  when  he  thus  vica- 
riously stood  for  a  sinning  race.  He  was  stricken  and 
smitten  of  God.  For  the  transgression  of  God's  peo- 
ple was  he  smitten.  It  pleased  the  Lord  to  bruise  him, 
and  put  him  to  grief.  He  was  wounded  for  our  trans- 
gressions ;  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  ;  the  chas- 
tisement of  our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  with  his  stripes 
we  are  healed.  There  is  Deity  ;  and,  on  the  Divine 
part,  the  inconceivable  of  sacrifice  and  suffering  sub- 
mitted to,  endured  for  the  saving  of  men,  that  God 
might  be  just  and  holy,  and  yet  save.  So  God  de- 
clares, just,  while  he  justifies  the  ungodly.  All  this 
was  done  by  the  divine  wisdom  and  appointment ; 
the  amazing  sacrifice,  the  boundless  cost,  was  entered 
upon,  was  assumed,  by  his  benevolent  desire,  that  his 
creatures  might  be  saved.  We  reason  that  it  took  all 
that,  the  illimitable  of  that,  to  save ;  and  that  nothing 


46  SALVATION   IN   NO   OTHER. 

less  was  competent  to  save  man.  It  cost  suffering  like 
that  the  Sou  of  God  bore  iu  his  own  person  to  deliver 
or  save  the  guilty  from  the  suffering  eternal  of  hell. 
If,  now,  God  made  such  a  provision  of  saving,  it  was 
because  it  was  necessary,  because  no  less  one  would 
answer. 

We  might  put  the  argument  on  this  ground,  that,  if 
God  saw  fit,  it  would  be  proper  for  him,  as  the  great 
Ruler  over  all,  to  make  his  own  condition,  and  hold 
men  rigidly  to  it,  and  call  them  away  from  every 
notion  or  scheme  of  their  own.  But  when  we  consider 
that  his  doing  for  our  saving  is  not  arbitrary,  that 
we  are  to  suppose  and  accept  it  all  as  strictly  fitting, 
and  as  meeting  the  great  difficulty  in  the  way,  and 
that  God  carried  the  infinite  to  its  ultimatum,  —  that 
only  divine  qualities  and  powers  could  have  sufficed  in 
the  exigency, — then  how  plain  that  no  secondary  can 
be  admitted  ;  no  man  may  set  aside  the  sacrifice  of  the 
Son  of  God,  and  place  in  its  stead  some  work  or  con- 
trivance of  his  own.  But  this  is  proving  what  is  in 
itself  plainer,  more  convincing,  than  any  proof.  God 
sent  his  Son  to  save  the  world.  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  on  the  cross,  met  death  to  save  the  world 
from  hell.  This  God  declares  to  be  the  way.  Then, 
of  course,  the  way  was  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others. 
Then  it  becomes  us  to  look  to  it,  and  see  how  we  walk, 
what  we  trust  to  for  the  help  of  our  souls. 

There  is  one  name ;  if  we  believe  in  it,  we  shall  be 
saved :  one  way ;  if  we  take  it,  we  shall  be  saved. 
There  are  many  other  ways,  a  portion  of  them  seem- 
ingly right  and  fair.  We  may  try  any  or  all  of  them, 
and  we  shall  not  be  saved,  because  it  is  written. 
Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other  :  for  there  is 


SALVATION   IN  NO   OTHER.  47 

none  other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men,  where- 
by we  must  he  saved.  The  Bible  restriction  is  to  one 
person,  Christ  ;  and  to  one  mode  of  saving,  the  cross. 
Christ  and  his  cross,  the  grand  theme  and  substance. 
Here  the  one  grand  centre  and  unity  and  power  in 
God's  scheme  of  redemption,  specifically,  essentially, 
and  ONLY  this.  This  exclusion  of  all  else,  this  restric- 
tion to  one  person  and  act  in  order  to  be  saved,  is  the 
doctrine  of  my  text,  —  is  the  solemn  affirmation  of 
God. 

Allow  me,  in  what  remains,  to  make  a  few  practical 
remarks  and  applications  of  the  subject. 

1.  And  my  first  remark  is,  that  there  is  wealth  and 
largess  in  connection  with  this  restriction.  I  say  this 
because  the  opposite  is  often  alleged.  The  limitarian 
scheme,  as  it  is  called,  how  many  flings  at  it.  We 
hear  it  denounced  as  partial,  stinted  in  its  promise, 
and  still  poorer  in  its  performance.  But  mark  the 
mistake  :  the  restriction  is  the  specific  character  and 
condition  of  the  power.  The  power  lies  in  the  restric- 
tion, not  in  the  compass  or  universality  of  saving. 
Here  the  opposer,  the  misrepresenter,  puts  it  in  the 
compass,  the  universality,  of  saving.  Right  wrong  in 
so  putting  it ;  for  while  the  thing  is  single,  simple  in 
principle,  it  is  multiform  in  application ;  while  the 
place  is  one,  it  is  a  broad  place.  Though  it  is  one 
thing  only,  Christ's  cross,  that  saves,  it  can  reach  all 
the  cases,  all  the  degrees.  Any  poverty  it  can  supply  ; 
any  soul-vacuum  it  can  fill ;  any  quantity  and  aggrava- 
tion of  guilt  it  can  remove ;  any  continuance  of  sin, 
even  near  to  death's  door,  it  can  dispose  of  or  sur- 
mount. It  has  to  show  a  history  of  saving  deeds, 
reaching  along   down   the   centuries,  touching  cases 


48  SALVATION   IN   NO   OTHER. 

like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  like  John  Bunyan,  John  New- 
ton, Vanderkamp,  Keopuolani,  —  of  all  countries,  and 
all  stages  and  measures  of  crime.  All  the  differences 
are  instantly  answered  to  in  the  unity  of  the  cross ; 
all  are  harmonized  in  coming  here,  —  coming  to  Jesus 
the  Saviour.  It  is  promise,  history,  experience,  that 
in  every  case  among  men  where  tlie  sinner  has  so  felt 
his  sin  as  to  desire,  and  come  to  Christ  humbly  for  sal- 
vation, to  receive  it  as  a  gift,  a  thing  of  grace,  that  per- 
son finds  salvation,  not  in  the  course  of  time,  not  by 
degrees,  but  instantly,  perfectly,  finds  and  possesses  it. 
This  one  salvation  that  comes  by  Christ,  this  it  is 
that  comes  to  the  souls  of  men  in  immediateness  and 
fulness  and  completeness,  to  the  amazement  of  the 
soul  that  receives  it.  And  the  same  is  accessible  to  all 
souls ;  is  got  here  or  is  got  nowhere.  I  ask,  is  it 
illiberal  in  God  to  treasure  up  in  one  spot  infinite  weal 
and  good,  then  mark  the  spot,  put  his  very  hand  on 
it,  and  say.  Here,  my  creatures,  it  is,  right  here :  come 
and  take  it  freely ;  you  all  may  have  it  and  be  my 
loving  children  ?  Is  it  not  rather  infinitely  generous  to 
make  the  provision,  the  deposit,  and  then  designate 
the  place,  and  open  for  all  the  path  to  reach  it  ? 

2.  Another  proof  of  generousness  appearing  in  the 
restriction  of  the  salvation  is,  that  it  abates  all  per- 
plexing questions  on  our  part ;  that  we  are  not  called 
upon  to  decide  between  competing  remedies,  or  to  fix 
what —  this  thing  or  that  —  we  shall  do,  when  do,  how 
do,  how  much  do.  Were  we  left  with  the  responsibility 
of  an  election  on  ourselves,  when  could  we  settle  down 
in  a  solid  peace  ?  Never.  We  should  go  hesitating  and 
trembling  whether  we  had  done  the  right  thing,  or 
done  the  right  degree  of  the  required  thing.     But  now, 


SALVATION   IN   NO   OTHER.  49 

as  God  puts  it,  we  know  just  whom  and  what  we  are  to 
believe  and  do  ;  then  may  cahuly  and  immovably  rest, 
and  an  opposing  universe  cannot  shake  us. 

It  also  abates  our  labor  of  search.  We  are  not  to 
traverse  all  worlds,  go  up  to  the  heights  and  go  down 
into  the  depths,  or  go  over  the  sea,  and  hunt  through 
the  snarl  of  multiplicities,  to  find  that  boon,  —  salvation, 
life.  It  is  nigh  thee,  so  God  says ;  nigh  thee,  and 
clearly  known  by  thee,  if  thou  admit  the  Word  of  God. 
How  kind  in  God,  that  he  makes  it  thus  feasible  for  us. 
We  are  simply  to  cast  aside  every  thing  else,  and  come, 
unwearied,  direct  to  the  only  and  the  central  place 
where  the  salvation  exhaustlessly  abides,  and  we  shall 
have  it. 

3.  This  restriction,  I  remark  again,  this  exclusion 
of  every  other,  this  limiting  to  one  thing,  while  it 
makes  the  salvation  so  feasible,  is  attended  with  the 
greatest  sureness  in  its  operation. 

It  renders  fatal  mistakes  gratuitous :  they  need  not 
be.  It  furnishes  a  criterion,  a  touchstone,  for  every 
one  looking  for  heaven  on  any  basis  called  Christian  ; 
calls  upon  him  to  apply  in  his  own  case  the  test,  and 
says.  Is  there  revealed  this  in  your  case  ?  —  namely,  a 
leaning  of  your  soul  implicitly  on  Christ  for  help ; 
a  resting  of  your  soul  sweetly  on  Christ  for  pardon ; 
are  you  conscious  that  it  is  thus  with  you  ? 

We  arc  willing  to  grant  that  you  may  be  in  error  on 
some  points  of  doctrine,  defective  here,  defective  there  ; 
but  if  true  at  this  pregnant  spot,  —  Jesus  the  crucified 
your  hope,  —  then  all  the  rest  will  come  right,  or  all  else 
will  be  passed  by.  I  come  to  you  to-day  with  no  captious 
argument,  in  no  spirit  of  contention,  nor  to  assail  this 
dogma  or  that,  this  ism  or  that ;  JL  would  waive  all 

4 


50  SALVATION   IN   NO   OTHER. 

these  to-day.  I  do  not  say  but  you  may  believe  this 
theory,  this  scheme,  this  ism,  and  reacli  heaven.  I  do 
say,  if  you  ever  reach  heaven,  you  must  beUeve 
Christ ;  that  his  life,  death,  blood,  righteousness,  saves 
the  soul,  and  this  only  saves.  Receive  this  as  your 
hope,  and  I  know  not  what  measure  of  heresy  on  other 
points  it  may  not  lift  you  out  of,  up  to  heaven.  To 
this  point  I  press  you :  I  cannot  stop  to  debate  the 
other  schemes.  On  this  point  I  must  insist ;  and  you 
must  let  me  insist  on  this.  It  is  not  dogmatism  to 
say  that  there  is  salvation  only  in  Him.  It  is  God  who 
says  this,  and  puts  it  on  every  minister  of  his,  ever- 
more to  say  it,  and  never  cease  to  say  it,  and  puts  the 
mortal  curse  upon  him  if  he  dares  to  say  any  thing 
different.  My  hearer,  I  dare  not  say  any  thing  differ- 
ent :  I  have  no  desire  to  say  any  thing  else.  Oh,  that 
I  had  the  gift  and  the  grace  and  the  power  worthily  to 
set  forth  the  infinite  of  gracious  resource  abiding  and 
ever  flowing  here.  How  would  I  exult  in  setting  forth 
to  you  the  literally  unbounded  wealth  of  this  message. 
Let  me  in  my  concluding  remark  apprise  you  what, 
at  the  present  time,  is  the  great  competing  foundation 
as  against  Christ ;  what,  ever  and  everywhere,  is  the 
grand  decoy  from  Christ  and  his  cross.  It  is  a  chari- 
table life.  How  common  the  opinion,  that  it  is  well 
with  tliose  who  do  a  great  deal  of  good  to  the  poor  and 
the  suffering.  It  is  maintained  to  be  well  with  them,  on 
the  ground  that  they  have  so  abounded  in  good  offices. 
If  these  flowed  from  love  to  Christ,  because  ye  did  it 
unto  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  then  you  will  be 
saved ;  and  not  because  of  these  kindly  deeds,  but  be- 
cause of  your  trust  in,  your  love  to,  and  your  union 
with,  Christ. 


SALVATION   IN   NO    OTHER.  61 

Mere  charitable  deeds,  how  did  Christ  put  them 
as  a  merit  of  salvation,  in  that  scene  he  drew  of  the 
two  men  who  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray  ?  One 
could  say,  doubtless  truly,  /  give  tithes  of  all  that  I 
possess.  The  other  could  say  nothing  of  this  ;  could 
only  say,  Crod  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  And  he 
was  the  accepted  one  ;  the  other  was  the  condemned 
one,  because  he  had  no  faith,  penitence,  love.  Paul 
settles  this  matter  with  a  final  and  crowning  authority 
when  he  says.  Though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the 
poor,  and  have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing.  The 
apostle  here  settles  it  that  one  may  give  his  whole 
time  and  his  whole  property  in  charity  to  the  poor, 
and  be  found  wanting  ;  not  having  love  to  Christ,  be 
a  castaway.  One  may  be  a  great  lover  of  his  species 
in  this  outward  sense,  and  be  a  bitter  hater  of  Christ. 
A  person  may  go  the  whole  round  of  commendable 
things,  and  knock  and  ask  at  the  door  of  every  one 
for  salvation.  At  the  door  of  strict  religious  observ- 
ance, of  prayers  and  sacraments  and  forms,  —  Is  it 
with  you  ?  Answer  —  Not  in  me.  At  that  of  bene- 
ficence and  all  noble  living:  Not  in  me.  Blameless 
morality,  an  uncorrupt  honesty,  just  and  faithful 
doing,  answer,  Not  in  me.  Temperance,  anti-slavery, 
heroic  reform,  Not  in  me,  not  in  me. 

Most  presumptuous  for  the  little  creature  of  a  day,  a 
sinner  at  that,  to  go  into  a  rivalry  on  this  matter  with 
the  great  God  himself,  and  get  together  before  him  his 
little  heap  of  questionable  goodness  or  merit,  and  pre- 
sent it  to  take  the  place  of  what  the  Eternal  Son  has 
wrought  out  and  amassed. 

Behold  him  standing,  at  the  last  day,  on  his  trial,  a 
competer  with  the  Judge  who  so  wonderfully  undertook 


52  SALVATION   IN   NO    OTHER. 

our  cause,  and  exhausted  a  divine  capability  to  meet 
it,  —  this  man,  a  worm,  braving  to  outdo  that  Infinite 
One  in  the  article  of  merit  and  saving  power,  saying 
to  him,  Thou  couldst  not  save  this  soul  of  mine ;  and 
I  have  brought  a  wealth  and  an  efficacy  that  will.  And 
will  it,  when  the  echo  of  these  words  shall  be  filling 
the  universe.  There  is  none  other  name  under  heaven 
given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  he  saved  ?  It  will  not. 
Then  let  all  other  names  and  ways  go,  and  come  and 
be  saved  by  this,  an  ample  way,  an  open  way,  a  blessed 
way  ;  but,  my  friend,  terrible  if  you  don't. 


V. 


THE   SHIPWKECK   OF   PAUL. 

And  now  I  exhort  you  to  be  of  good  cheer :  for  there  shall 
he  no  loss  of  any  mavUs  life  among  you,  hut  of  the  ship. 

Paul  said  to  the  centurion,  and  to  the  soldiers,  Except  these 
abide  in  the  ship,  ye  cannot  be  saved.  —  Acts  xxvii.  22,  31. 

nPHE  precise  time  in  this  memorable  storm  at  which 
-*•  Paul  uttered  his  assuring  words  cannot  be  defi- 
nitely fixed ;  probably,  near  the  middle  of  it.  It  is 
evident,  that,  throughout  the  days  and  nights  that 
gloomily  succeeded,  the  peril  seemingly  increased,  till 
the  end  of  the  fourteen  days  during  which  they  tossed 
up  and  down,  drifting  through  the  sea  of  Adria.  The 
first  indication  of  approach  to  land  probably  was  the 
roar  of  breakers,  so  peculiar,  and  so  readily  detected  by 
a  practised  ear.  This  it  was  which  led  to  the  precau- 
tion of  sounding ;  which  being  done,  they  found  the 
water  twenty  fathoms ;  a  little  farther,  it  was  only 
fifteen ;  a  fact  which  indicated  a  rapid  approach  to  the 
shore.  Now  came  the  order  to  clear  the  anchors, 
which  they  did,  letting  go  four  by  the  stern ;  and  in 
this  position  they  waited  anxiously  for  the  day.  At 
this  juncture  the  uailors  undertook  to  flee  from  the 
ship,  and  would  have  succeeded,  probably,  but  for  the 
interposition   of  the   apostle,  through  the  centurion. 


54  THE    SHIPWRECK   OF   PAUL. 

Tlie  soldiers,  however,  at  once  cut  the  ropes  of  the 
boat  they  had  let  down,  and  it  drifted  away,  leaving 
the  company  still  more  in  peril  through  the  loss  of 
this  their  only  boat.  But,  the  seamen  retained  to 
work,  and  Paul  there  to  encourage  and  to  cheer,  it 
was  accomplished  as  the  apostle  said:  they  were  all 
brought  safe  to  land.  The  entire  cargo  went  into  the 
sea,  and  the  ship  went  to  pieces ;  but  not  a  life  was 
lost. 

How  admirable  appears  the  character  of  Paul 
through  all  this  terrible  scene.  A  model  of  conduct 
in  circumstances  which  develop,  commonly,  only  fear 
and  petulance.  With  him  it  was  calmness,  self-posses- 
sion, patience,  through  those  fourteen  days  and  nights 
without  sight  of  sun  or  stars.  The  benevolence  of  the 
apostle,  also,  perpetually  shone.  It  was  the  benevo- 
lence his  religion  gave  him.  He  was  ready  with  his 
counsel,  which  they  heeded  not ;  and,  when  they  were 
brought  into  trouble  by  this  disregard  of  his  words, 
ready  still  in  their  extremity  to  do  what  he  could  for 
their  benefit  and  relief.  As  his  words  of  counsel 
directed  toward  them  failed,  he  directed  words  oi 
prayer  toward  God.  It  was  after  a  night  of  prayer, 
that  Paul  came  out  with  those  words  assuring  all  ol 
ultimate  safety.  It  was  the  prayer  of  the  apostle  that 
saved  these  lives.  Said  the  angel  to  him,  Lo,  God  has 
given  thee  all  them  that  sail  with  thee.  We  may  safely 
paraphrase  and  add.  For  thy  sake,  in  answer  to  thy 
prayer,  they  live ;  they  are  debtors  to  thee  for  life. 
And  may  we  not  suppose  they  were  given  to  Paul,  at 
least  some  of  them,  in  a  higher  sense  ?  On  account  of 
Paul's  intercession,  his  fidelity  in  teaching,  his  exam- 
ple of  calmness,  his  excellent  and  radiant  life,  we  may 


THE   SHIPWRECK   OP   PAUL,  55 

suppose  that  some  of  their  souls  were  saved.  At  such 
au  hour,  they  must  have  felt  the  need  of  something  to 
stand  by  them,  sustain  them  ;  something  they  had  not ; 
something  they  saw  the  prisoner  had.  Softened  now 
by  that  providence,  impressed  by  that  teaching,  won 
by  that  life,  how  probable,  even,  that  some  who  sailed 
with  Paul  also  took  passage  with  him  in  the  saving 
ark. 

In  this  history,  then,  we  have  illustrated  before 
us,  —  1.  The  efficacy  of  Prayer.  Prayer  reaches  the 
ear,  and  brings  forth  the  mighty  working  of  God ; 
brings  his  blessing  down ;  saves  the  life,  saves  the 
soul.  The  promise  is  not  only  made :  we  behold  the 
performance,  God  hearing,  interposing,  redeeming. 

2.  In  this  whole  scene  and  transaction,  we  have  an 
illustration  of  the  benefit  the  bad  derive  from  the 
presence  of  the  good.  Paul,  we  may  suppose,  was  the 
object  of  sly,  if  not  of  open,  ridicule.  Very  likely 
they  despised  and  even  hated  his  religion.  But  he 
loved  them,  and  strove  to  do  them  good ;  and  to  him 
was  it  owing,  we  repeat,  that  they  came  alive  out  of 
their  difficulties.  And  this,  which  was  so  palpably  the 
fact  on  board  that  vessel,  is  the  same  the  world  over. 
From  the  time  ten  righteous  would  have  saved  Sodom, 
and  three  righteous  actually  saved  this  imperilled 
company,  the  bad  owe  it  to  the  good,  beyond  what  they 
think,  that  they  live  and  are  blest. 

3.  We  also  find  in  this  account  an  example  or  illus- 
tration of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  records.  We 
find  that  they  are  ever  holding  true  under  the  severest 
examination.  An  English  gentleman  of  the  highest 
scholarly  and  nautical  attainments  has  given  years  to 
the  study  of  the  two  last  chapters  of  the  Acts  of  the 


66  THE    SHIPWRECK   OF    PAUL. 

Apostles.  He  took  up  Ins  residence  in  Malta  and 
vicinity  for  some  time ;  also  visited  and  thorouglily 
examined  all  the  libraries  in  Europe  which  could  fur- 
nish any  thing  to  illustrate  the  incidents  of  this  mem- 
orable voyage ;  and,  as  the  result,  he  brought  forth  a 
work  so  replete  with  new  information,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  reconstruct  previously  written  commen- 
taries. And  one  result  of  these  investigations  is,  to 
confirm  the  exact  truthfulness  of  Luke's  history.  In 
coming  to  this  result,  one  point  made  certain  is,  that 
the  ship  was  laid  to.  Another  point  is,  that  the  storm 
beat  upon  her  from  the  east  and  north-east.  Another, 
made  certain  from  ample  data,  is,  that  she  was  laid  to 
with  her  right  side  to  the  wind.  These  three  things 
being  known,  it  is  ascertainable  upon  established  nau- 
tical principles  in  what  direction  she  would  drift.  The 
line  of  her  drift — in  other  words,  the  course  on  which 
she  fell  to  the  leeward — pointed  west  by  north.  This 
is  determined  by  naval  authorities  from  the  precise 
data  Luke  furnishes.  Prom  the  same  authorities  we 
have  it,  that,  in  a  storm  of  this  character  and  intensity, 
a  ship  would  drift  on  an  average  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
an  hour,  thirty-six  miles  in  twenty- four  hours.  Then 
we  have  this  conclusion,  —  the  course  of  this  drift,  as 
scientifically  ascertained,  continued,  would  bring  this 
ship  out  at  Malta,  where  she  did  come  out.  And 
drifting  at  the  rate  of  thirty-six  miles  a  day  for  the 
space  of  thirteen  days,  the  time  she  actually  wa^ 
drifting,  would  take  her  over  a  distance  of  four 
hundred  and  sixty-eight  miles,  which  is  very  nearly 
the  distance  from  Clauda  to  Melita.  And  have  we  not 
here  refreshing  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  this  Scrip- 
ture ?     This  species  of  proof  comes  palpably  home  to 


THE   SHIPWRECK   OP  PAUL.  57 

US ;  and  the  like  keeps  coming  from  various  quarters 
with  advancing  science,  making  still  bulkier  and 
higher  that  huge  column  of  demonstration  which  has 
been  constructing  through  the  ages.  This  is  the  book, 
this  the  mighty  pillar  of  proof,  which  some  people  have 
presumptuously  calculated,  and  others  timidly  feared, 
would  ere  long  be  overthrown  by  the  knuckles  of  the 
spirits. 

4.  In  this  historic  scene  or  transaction,  we  discover 
some  light  and  relief  falling  upon  a  certain  difficult 
point  of  doctrine,  deemed  the  Gordian  knot  of  theol- 
ogy. In  touching  on  this  point,  I  refer  particularly  to 
what  is  found  in  the  two  passages  selected  as  my  text. 
In  the  first  of  these  we  have  the  unqualified  declara- 
tion that  every  life  shall  be  saved.  Paul  received  the 
assurance  from  heaven,  and  he  uttered  it  for  the  relief 
of  the  distressed  company,  There  shall  be  no  loss  of  any 
man^s  life  among  you.  In  the  second,  Paul,  seeing  that 
the  crew  were  making  arrangements  to  leave  the  ship, 
says  to  the  centurion,  Except  these  abide  in  the  ship,  ye 
cannot  be  saved.  We  have  here,  first,  the  absolute 
declaration  from  above,  that  all  on  board  should  be 
saved ;  the  unqualified  declaration  direct  from  God 
being,  All  who  sail  with  you  shall  get  safe  to  land. 
This,  thus  absolutely  uttered,  of  course,  was  deter- 
mined, fixed,  by  the  Divine  Being.  If  not,  how  could 
even  the  all-knowing  One  know  it,  or  cause  it  to  be 
uttered  ?  Having  resolved  to  bring  it  out  so  in  the 
end,  he  could  declare  it  through  his  servant,  as  he 
did.  The  declaration  was  based  on  his  foreknowledge  ; 
and  the  foreknowledge  was  based  on  the  determinate 
purpose.  There  is  no  other  way  to  account  for  or 
present  the  matter,  without  encroaching  upon  some 


68  THE    SHIPWRECK   OF   PAUL. 

Divine  Perfection.  It  was  the  purpose  of  God  that  all 
on  board  should  be  saved ;  and  that  purpose  he  made 
known,  in  the  height  of  the  peril,  for  the  relief  of  the 
company.  Then,  after,  comes  from  the  same  Divine 
Source  the  discordant  utterance,  as  many  will  deem  it, 
Except  these  abide  in  the  ship,  ye  cannot  he  saved.  But 
what  Paul  said  before  was  the  prophetic  fact ;  God  will 
deliver  the  whole  company.  What  is  said  in  the 
second  instance  is  the  indicating  of  the  means,  — 
Except  these  abide.  Abide  in  the  ship,  and  ye  shall  be 
saved.  God's  higli  purpose  on  the  one  hand,  man's 
instrumental  agency  on  the  other,  —  both  have  their 
relation  to  the  saving  to  be  effected.  This,  now,  is 
one  point  we  have  illustrated  by  this  inspired  narra- 
tive ;  viz.,  that  these  two  things  are  consistent, —  God's 
purpose  to  bring  to  pass,  and  man's  agency  in  bring- 
ing to  pass.  These  two  are  consistent,  because  they 
are  both  co-existing  facts. 

But  these  two  positions,  stated  in  the  abstract  form, 
have  made  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  It  is  said  at  once, 
If  God  ordains,  it  must  come  to  pass,  and  will ;  the 
doings  of  the  creature,  whether  brought  to  hinder  or 
to  help,  are  a  grand  impertinence.  But  if  we  look  at 
the  two,  in  a  concrete  form,  in  the  actual  occurrence, 
it  appears  differently.  First,  we  have  the  absolute 
statement,  they  shall  all  be  saved  ;  then  the  qualifying 
condition,  —  Except  so  and  so,  ye  cannot  be  saved. 
Any  difficulty  here  ?  Practically,  are  they  not,  seem 
they  not,  consistent  ?  Was  the  centurion,  or  were  the 
others,  probably  staggered  by  any  appearance  of  in 
consistency  ?  or  did  they  raise  any  objection  on  the 
score  of  inconsistency  ?  or  was  the  purpose  of  God  en- 
dangered by  the  enjoined  condition,  —  the  seamen  not 


THE   SHIPWEECK   OP    PAUL.  59 

abiding  in  the  ship,  —  consequently  God's  purpose  frus- 
trated ?  No  :  God,  who  fixed  and  uttered  the  purpose, 
could  secure  the  condition  as  he  did,  and  that  by  the 
free  working  of  the  minds  of  the  company.  As  a  fact 
prophetic,  they  were  saved  by  an  absolute  decree ; 
as  a  fact  resulting,  they  were  saved  by  a  conditioned 
obedience,  —  both  indubitable  facts  under  God's  ad- 
ministration ;  and,  as  facts,  both  dwelling  in  perfect 
harmony. 

Another  point  or  aspect  of  this  matter,  receiving 
illustration  from  this  case,  is,  that  these  seemingly 
conflicting  facts  are  not  only  really  consistent,  but  the 
one  is  helpful,  even  necessary,  to  the  accomplishment 
of  the  other.  This,  too,  appears  in  the  narrative 
before  us.  God's  purpose  was,  to  save  this  ship's 
company.  God's  plan  was,  to  save  the  ship's  com- 
pany by  the  ship's  crew,  by  their  skill,  their  courage, 
their  stalwart  strength.  Therefore  it  was  that  he 
moved  his  servant  to  say,  Ye  cannot  be  saved,  ex- 
cept these  abide,  simply  as  the  natural  and  provided 
means  of  saving  the  ship's  company.  They  were  to  be 
saved,  then,  by  the  appointed  means  of  deliverance 
in  such  a  case ;  the  means  were  necessary  to  their 
deliverance,  unless  they  were  to  be  delivered  by  means 
wholly  supernatural. 

It  appears,  then,  further,  in  the  unfolding  of  this 
case,  that  God's  purpose  to  deliver,  and  his  announce- 
ment of  that  purpose,  went  to  encourage  and  sustain 
the  efforts  which  were  to  work  out  the  deliverance. 
They  were  told  two  things  from  heaven  :  first,  that  they 
would  be  saved  ;  second,  that  they  would  be  saved  only 
through  their  own  exertions.  There,  now,  is  the  case, 
there,  the  facts.     Let  common  sense  interpret.     Sup- 


60  THE    SHIPWRECK   OF    PAUL. 

pose  the  case  yoiir  own,  a  case  of  imminent  peril, — 
what  will  you  do  ?  Tlirow  yourself  supinely  on  the 
purpose  of  God,  whatever  that  purpose  may  be  ?  Not 
a  man  in  his  senses  would  do  any  such  thing.  Doing 
this  would  prove  him  to  be  out  of  his  senses.  In  the 
case  before  us,  the  centurion  based  no  plea  of  safety 
on  the  naked  ground  of  God's  declared  purpose  of 
deliverance,  but  minded  Paul,  retained  the  men,  put 
them  to  their  duty  ;  and  they  could  work,  and  did, 
with  mighty  vigor,  sustained  and  nerved  as  they  were 
by  the  encouragement  of  the  announced  decree  of 
their  salvation.  Let  any  man  know  that  his  striving 
will  avail  to  his  rescue,  he  has,  in  that  assurance,  the 
strongest  of  all  motives  to  strive. 

It  is  very  obvious  how  all  this  applies  to  the  process 
and  the  interests  of  salvation  in  the  higher  sense,  — 
the  soul's  salvation.  Let  us  take  these  facts  and 
principles  and  pass  with  them  into  this  more  spiritual 
region.  And,  first,  we  state  the  truth,  that  God  has  a 
purpose  respecting  the  salvation  of  the  souls  of  men. 
We  should  naturally  infer  this  from  the  boundless 
perfection  of  his  character,  the  infiniteness  of  his 
attributes.  It  certainly  seems  to  be  so  from  the  teach- 
ing of  his  Word,  in  which  the  calling  and  salvation  of 
Christians  is  said  to  be,  not  according  to  their  works, 
but  according  to  his  own  purpose  and  grace.  God's 
purpose  is  not  merely  that  he  will  save  those  that 
believe,  but  that,  by  his  grace,  he  will  bring  some 
to  believe  and  to  be  holy.  The  purpose  is  to  make 
holy,  to  save,  —  a  purpose  eternal  and  irreversible;  not 
extending  to  all,  as  in  the  ship's  company,  but  to  a 
definite  and  a  vast  number.  God,  we  believe,  could 
write  out  the  names,  complete  the  roll,  and  spread  it 


THE   SHIPWRECK  OF   PAUL.  61 

before  us,  and  say  in  our  ears,  Each  of  these  shall  be 
saved.  The  second  fact  or  principle  brought  out  in  the 
historic  case  holds  precisely  the  same  in  the  process 
of  the  soul's  rescue ;  namely,  the  condition,  the  hu- 
man performance,  as  made  indispensable.  Except  ye 
do  it,  ye  cannot  be  saved.  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall 
all  likewise  perish.  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved : 
he  that  believeth  not,  is  condemned  already.  Strive 
to  enter  in.  Work  out  your  own  salvation.  The 
phrase  is  varied,  indeed,  but  all  goes  to  show  us,  that 
if  any  of  us  are  .saved,  it  will  not  be  by  relying  on  the 
secret  purpose,  but  by  obeying  the  open,  palpable 
counsel  and  precept  of  God,  repenting,  believing, 
obeying. 

Another  point  of  the  parallel  is  the  consistency, 
between  God's  purposing  and  the  necessity  of  our 
doing.  Multitudes  will  have  it,  that,  in  such  a  case, 
there  is  no  need  of  any  endeavor  on  our  part.  We 
can  only  say  to  this,  how  like  a  fool  a  man  reasons, 
when  his  soul,  the  interests  of  his  immortality,  are  at 
stake ;  and  persists  still  in  reasoning,  when  all  na- 
ture, all  actual  things,  all  veritable  facts  and  events, 
lay  bare  his  sophistry,  and  rebuke  his  folly.  His  crop 
of  grain,  —  God's  decree  fixes  it,  God's  blessing  pro- 
duces it.  He  admits  it  to  be  so ;  and  yet  he  ploughs 
and  plants  and  weeds,  and  fosters  the  growth  ;  and,  by 
so  doing,  he  reaps  the  harvest  promised.  Was  God's 
purpose  here  a  hindrance  ?  Did  it  bring  a  blight  or 
a  blessing  on  the  seed  sowed,  and  the  toil  put  forth  ? 

Another  point  in  the  parallel,  and  the  efficacious 
and  practical  one,  is,  that  God's  purpose,  his  decree  of 
election,  stands  in  his  administration  as  an  encouraging 
consideration.     And  this  simply  because  the  gospel, 


62  THE    SHIPWRECK    OF    PAUL. 

ill  this  doctrine,  says  to  every  man,  You  may  be 
saved  :  not,  you  shall ;  but,  you  may  be.  So  was  it  on 
board  that  ship.  An  assurance  of  deliverance,  indeed, 
was  given.  But  it  was  added,  Consider  the  means: 
employ  them,  and  you  live.  Perform  the  condition, 
and  you  are  safe :  disregard  it,  throw  it  overboard, 
and  you  go  after  it  into  a  watery  grave.  How  plain. 
There  is  something  here  to  nerve  to  exertion.  How 
much  more  in  the  other  case,  where  the  life  of  the  soul 
is  concerned ;  because  it  is  not  known,  in  this  other 
case,  who  or  how  many  God's  saving  purpose  em- 
braces. This  is  one  of  the  secret  things  which  belong 
to  him.  The  thing  revealed,  that  which  belongs  to  us, 
is.  Repent,  and  believe  the  gospel.  Here,  now,  is  our 
point  of  interest  and  of  working,  if  we  would  come 
out  right.  Here,  too,  the  place  for  us  to  make  —  in  a 
sense  to  create  —  the  evidence  that  God's  saving  pur- 
pose embraces  us.  The  evidence  is  simply  this,  that 
we  are  about  the  work,  are  performing  the  condition. 
Thus,  you  see,  the  motive  to  put  forth  endeavor  is 
about  doubled.  The  business  on  my  hands  is  to  make 
out  the  case  that  I  am  one  of  the  ship's  company  who 
is  to  get  to  the  heavenly  shore.  We  do  not  know  be- 
forehand precisely  who  will  reach  it ;  but  we  do  know, 
that  those  who  are  serious,  who  make  effort  to  be  saved, 
are  more  likely  to  prove  the  ones  whom  God  has  pur- 
posed to  save.  We  see  this,  then,  that  God's  purpose 
of  election  does  not  take  a  man's  salvation  out  of  his 
own  hands :  it  puts  it  into  his  hands,  just  as,  after  he 
announced  the  decree  of  deliverance  to  that  whole  ship's 
company,  he  put  their  salvation  directly  into  their 
own  hands :  Except  ye  abide  and  work,  ye  cannot 
be   saved.     God   makes   the   election.     The  creature 


THE    SHIPWRECK    OF   PAUL.  63 

is  called  upon  to  make  the  election  sure,  —  to  bring 
it  to  the  test  and  proof.  The  mischief  is,  that  multi- 
tudes begin  at  the  wrong  end,  prying  into  the  election. 
First,  they  try  and  satisfy  themselves  that  they  are 
elected :  that  made  out,  then  they  will  do  something. 
That  cannot  be  made  out  in  this  way  ;  indeed,  we  have 
none  of  us  any  thing  to  do  with  that  matter.  It  is 
God's  prerogative  to  elect,  "  having  mercy  on  whom 
he  will."  It  is  your  privilege  to  make  out  the  evidence, 
each  in  his  own  case,  to  make  your  calling  and  elec- 
tion sure.  The  favoring  evidence  that  you  are  one  of 
the  chosen  of  God,  begins  to  form  the  moment  your 
soul  earnestly  turns  with  filial  listening  to  the  heav- 
enly Father's  call  and  claim.  The  evidence  brightens 
as  you  forsake  all  vain  associates,  all  obstructing 
practices  or  employments,  and  come  humbly  to  be 
taught  from  the  Book  of  God,  and,  in  the  secret  place 
of  prayer,  beg  for  light  and  for  mercy.  Still,  all  this 
may  prove  as  the  morning  cloud  and  the  early  dew  ;  all 
may  come  to  nothing.  The  evidence  rises  to  demon- 
stration when  you  come  and  give  your  heart  to  Christ, 
and  bind  your  all  to  him  as  his  disciple.  This  you 
may  do,  are  called  upon  to  do.  The  way  is  all  open  to 
this.  Out  of  yourself,  not  the  least  obstruction.  On 
God's  part,  there  is  every  thing  to  encourage  and  to 
aid,  especially  the  blessed  fact  revealed  of  God's 
mind  and  purpose  to  save.  An  angel  this,  brighter 
than  the  one  Paul  saw.  And  he  stands  with  smiles 
and  beckonings  by  the  side  of  every  soul  that  has 
seriously  meditated  its  own  salvation ;  assures  you 
salvation,  if  salvation  such  as  God  proffers,  your  soul 
truly  desires.  If,  then,  you  have  begun,  we  say,  Go  on, 
and  make  your  case  more  hopeful  by  still  more  decided 


64  THE   SHIPWRECK   OF   PAUL. 

doings  on  the  platform  of  God's  gospel.  And  if  the 
balking  thought  comes  up,  I  fear  I  am  not  one  of  the 
elect,  crush  it  out  by  proceedings  still  more  profoundly 
resolved  and  earnest,  that  if  there  are  to  be  but  ten 
from  this  drifting  Sodom  to  reach  that  heavenly  shore, 
by  God's  grace  and  my  own  sinew,  I  will  be  one.  In 
a  certain  lazy  sense,  there  is  an  excess  of  reliance,  an 
utterly  false  reliance,  upon  God's  power  or  grace.  A 
vast  many  go  in  for  that  grace,  the  goodness  divine, 
that  alone,  to  get  them  into  heaven.  They  have  yet  to 
find  it  won't  do  it ;  have  yet  to  learn,  that  it  takes 
some  human  tug  and  stuff  to  get  a  soul  there. 

It  is  safe  to  say,  Better  to  put  trust  in  God  than  in 
bolts  and  planks.  It  is  prudent  to  add.  Notwith- 
standing your  trust  in  God,  look  well  to  the  soundness 
of  your  bolts  and  planks  ;  and,  if  the  bolts  part  and  the 
planks  rip  off,  then,  in  your  desperate  resolve  for  the 
shore,  cast  yourself  upon  the  severed  and  floating 
timbers.  So  did  that  wrecked  company.  Notwith- 
standing the  soothing  word  of  Paul,  that  they  should 
all  be  saved,  it  was  by  an  awful  struggle  they  did  it; 
with  frightful  buffetings  amid  the  foaming,  curling 
breakers  ;  some  on  boards,  and  some  on  broken  pieces 
of  the  vessel.  And  so  it  came  to  pass,  that  they  escaped 
all  safe  to  the  land. 


VI. 

ELIJAH   THE    TISHBITE. 

And  Elijah  the  Tishhite,  who  loas  of  ike  inhabitants  of  Gilead, 
said  unto  Ahab,  As  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,  there  shall  not  be  dew  nor  rain  these  years, 
hut  according  to  my  word.  —  1  Kings  xvii.  1. 

TN  giving  a  discourse  upon  this  prophet,  one  might 
■^  open  with  the  statement  that  Elijah  was  a  remark- 
able man ;  and  the  statement,  as  predicated  of  the 
subject,  would  be  a  very  tame  one.  There  are  many 
remarkable  men  in  the  Bible ;  but  Elijah  seems  to 
stand  on  a  height  far  above  most  of  them.  His  char- 
acter has  an  element  of  the  preternatural,  and  his 
history  a  pervading  tinge  of  the  romantic.  Indeed, 
there  is  nothing  more  stirring  and  more  captivating  to 
the  imagination  in  the  world  of  fiction,  than  we  find  in 
the  story  of  this  man,  all  of  which  is  sober  historic 
truth. 

His  first  deed  was  a  wonder,  and  the  narrative  is  a 
string  of  wonders — wonders  sublimely  wrought  —  all 
through  his  course ;  the  finishing  one  the  most  sub- 
lime of  any  in  the  train. 

He  bursts  suddenly  upon  our  view.  His  origin,  his 
education,  his  commission,  all  abide  in  darkness  ;  this 
only  we  know,  Elijah  the  Tishhite.     He  comes  up  with 

6 


Q6  ELIJAH    THE   TISHBITE. 

spectral  grandeur ;  with  the  majesty  and  authority  of 
a  being  of  another  world.  His  first  standing  forth  is 
in  the  presence  of  a  king,  proclaiming  in  that  presence 
a  three-years'  famine  throughout  the  land.  He  then 
passes  away,  to  be  hidden  for  a  season  near  a  small 
brook.  There  the  ravens  fed  him,  till  he  became  an 
inmate  in  the  poor  widow's  home,  where  for  two  years 
he  made  the  meal  and  oil  increase  as  fast  as  they  were 
consumed.  And  when  death  smote  down  the  widow's 
son,  —  as  she,  probably,  little  thought  with  a  prophet 
at  her  board,  who  could  keep  the  famine  at  bay, —  and 
her  soul  was  filled  with  the  bitterest  sorrow,  the  man 
of  God  undid  the  destroyer's  work,  called  back  the 
departed  spirit,  and  gave  the  mother  her  son  alive. 
While  the  prophet  abode  in  this  place,  the  king  was 
in  earnest  search  for  him  ;  and  soon  we  see  him  in  the 
presence  of  the  enraged  monarch,  retorting  upon  him 
the  charge  :  Thou  art  the  troubler  of  Israel,  thou  and  thy 
father'' s  house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken  the  command- 
ments of  the  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed  Baalim. 
Next  we  see  Elijah  gathered  with  the  prophets  of 
Baal,  —  four  hundred  against  this  one  man  of  God. 
And  he  there  confounded  them  all,  and  brought  down 
the  fire  to  consume  the  sacrifice ;  an  achievement 
which  convinced  tlie  people,  brought  from  them  all 
the  shout,  The  Lord  he  is  Grod,  and  ended  in  the 
overthrow  and  destruction  of  the  priests  of  Baal. 
Soon  we  see  him  again,  —  the  man  who  had  the 
power  to  shut,  by  the  same  power  opening,  heaven  ; 
and  the  rain  fell  freely,  and  the  earth  was  clad  in 
beauty.  Next  we  see  our  hero  fleeing  before  the  in- 
famous Jezebel,  terrified  by  her  threats,  and  hiding 
himself  from  her  ire  in  an  Arabian  cave.     In  a  lit- 


ELIJAH    THE   TISHBITE.  67 

tie  while  we  see  him  again,  appointing  and  anoint- 
ing kings  and  prophets ;  breaking,  by  the  authority 
given  him,  two  time-honored  royal  successions, — 
one  in  Syria,  the  other  in  Israel.  This  maker  of 
kings,  in  a  little  while,  comes  before  us  again,  as 
the  reprover  and  denouncer  of  a  king ;  and,  soon 
after,  an  arrow,  thrown  at  a  venture,  smote  tliat 
king,  and  the  dogs  licked  up  his  blood.  Then  his 
more  infamous  queen  fell  by  a  still  more  disgraceful 
death,  and  her  carcass  was  more  completely  eaten  by 
the  same  commissioned  dogs,  —  all  in  fulfilment  of 
the  stern  prophet's  word.  The  holy  man  journeys 
on  till  fifty  men,  sent  by  another  incensed  sover- 
eign to  apprehend  him,  meet  him ;  when  the  prophet 
speaks,  and  a  shower  of  fire  descends  and  consumes 
them  all ;  another  fifty^  and  another  shower  buries 
them  also.  The  dread,  mysterious  personage  passes 
on  till  the  Jordan  opposes.  He  smites  the  stream 
with  his  mantle,  the  waters  divide,  and  he  and  his 
companions  walk  over  on  dry  ground.  We  see  them 
journeying  on  still,  Elijah  and  his  anointed  suc- 
cessor ;  and,  as  they  talked  together,  behold,  there 
appeared  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  horses  of  fire,  and 
parted  them  asunder  ;  and  Elijah  went  up  by  a  whirl- 
wind into  heaven.  His  companion  saw  it,  and  cried, 
3Iy  father,  my  father !  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the 
horsemen  thereof.  A  marvellous  ending  of  a  most 
singular  and  marvellous  life. 

In  glancing  over  the  field  of  the  prophet's  doings, 
the  one  thing  which  stands  out,  afrests  and  impresses 
us,  is  this,  namely.  Power, —  the  power  of  the  man. 
So  inspiration,  with  its  customary  absence  of  epithets, 
describes   him,  —  using   but   two   words,  —  the  spirit 


68  ELIJAH    THE   TISHBITE. 

and  the  power  of  Elijah,  —  power  based  upon,  derived 
from,  the  spirit  of  the  man.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to 
designate  a  few  things  in  the  spirit,  the  gifts,  the 
endowments  of  this  man. 

Severity  stands  out  as  one  trait  in  the  spirit  of 
Ehjah.  When  he  spake,  very  commonly  was  it  to 
denounce,  to  doom,  to  destroy.  Elijah, — we  should 
not  like  to  be  judged  by  him.  We  should  be  almost 
afraid  to  go  into  his  presence.  We  should  all  the 
while  be  thinking  of  the  fire,  lest  it  come  down  and 
consume  us  also.  And  yet  I  have  no  doubt  there  went 
alongside  this  severity  a  deep  vein  of  Tenderness ; 
that  he  felt  deeply  for  the  Sareptan  woman  in  her 
bereavement ;  that  he  wept  while  he  prayed  the 
prayer  which  brought  back  the  son's  precious  life. 
These  contrasted  qualities  you  will  commonly  find 
in  the  great,  achieving  characters ;  namely,  severity 
and  tenderness.  Yea,  the  model  is  found  in  the 
Divine  character,  —  these  there  lying  together :  The 
goodness  and  tha  severity  of  Gfod. 

Decision  is  another  quality  which  went  deeply  into 
the  spirit  of  Elijah.  This  everywhere,  and  in  the  very 
highest  degree.  We  see  it  in  his  prompt  utterance 
and  action :  the  word  he  speaks  is  so  unqualifiedly 
spoken.  The  work  he  performs,  is  done  at  once,  —  no 
wavering,  but  direct,  strong,  absolute,  authoritative. 

Another  and  kindred  quality  is  Boldness,  —  boldness 
to  meet  his  foe,  though  his  foe  be  a  king ;  boldness  to 
utter  the  truth  and  hurl  the  dart,  strike  where  it  might. 
Israel's  impious  kiii^  had  opportunity  to  learn  the 
prophet's  boldness  in  both  these  respects.  There  was 
also  the  boldness  of  adventure,  daring  to  take  risks,  to 
assume  any  measure  of  responsibility.     How  does  this 


ELIJAH   THE  TISHBITE.  69 

appear  in  that  first  utterance :  JVo  dew  nor  rain  for 
these  years,  according  to  my  word?  And  again,  most 
especially  when  all  Israel  was  on  Carmel,  together 
with  the  prophets  of  Baal ;  when  he  staked  every  thing 
—  his  own  life,  the  religion  of  his  country,  the  reputed 
existence  of  God  —  upon  that  marvellous  test,  the 
answer  by  fire.  What  a  spirit  of  adventure,  —  one 
against  such  a  multitude,  and  all  to  turn  on  such  a 
portent.  It  is  the  spirit  of  Elijah,  without  a  single 
quavering  fibre,  ready  to  risk  it. 

Another  thing,  intimately  related,  most  deeply  in- 
wrought, was  Confidence  in  his  position,  therefore 
Strength  of  position.  He  stood  firm,  strong,  be- 
cause he  knew  where  he  stood.  All  these  qualities 
were  his,  we  say,  because  they  were  made  with 
him,  —  were  the  native  endowments  of  his  soul. 
God  laid  in  him,  at  the  beginning,  the  foundation 
for  such  words  and  works.  All  these  qualities 
were  his,  we  say  again,  and  especially,  because  he 
had  faith,  unshaken  trust,  in  God.  How  strong  and 
firm  these  were,  with  Him  to  sustain  him  in  every 
emergency.  He  spake,  he  struck,  he  adventured,  be- 
cause he  believed  in  God,  —  trusted  that  God  would 
take  care  of  his  own  cause ;  that  the  God  who  had 
commissioned  him  would  carry  him  triumphantly 
through.  Thus  faith  heightened  and  perfected  all  the 
commanding  qualities  of  his  spirit ;  did  not  alter  them  ; 
carried  them  forward  and  higher ;  made  them  vastly 
greater,  stronger. 

1.  And,  first,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  notice,  for 
our  encouragement,  the  nature  and  extent  of  God's  re- 
sources in  the  matter  of  raising  up  men  for  his  service. 
"  Of  these  stones  "  he  can  make  them ;  he  can  bring 


70  ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITE. 

them,   full   grown,   from   the   womb   of  vacuity   and 
oblivion,  —  men  who  shall  rule  kings  and  cliange  the 
aspect   of  the  world.     They   come   suddenly  on   the 
stage,  and  utter  a  truth  and  do  a  deed  which  fills  all 
attending  minds  with  wonder.     And  when  the  question 
is   started.  Who  are  they,  and  whence  ?   nobody  can 
tell.     Elijah  the  Tishbite,  —  that  is  all.     Their  whole 
previous  history  is  put  into  a  word,  without  father, 
without  mother,  without  descent :  —  Elijah  the   Tish- 
bite.    There  you  have   it ;    and  so  it  has  been  from 
the   beginning,   and   so   it   is   now.      The   men   who 
have    had    the   qualities    to    impress    and    bless   the 
world  have  commonly  come  up  from  obscurity.     They 
have  struggled  with  hardships,  and  have  made  them- 
selves, —  rather  God  has  had  the  ordering,  and  has 
made  them,  and  they  show  the  marks  of  his  work- 
manship.     How   obvious    and    common   a   truth   do 
I  now  state,  that  the  overwhelming  mass  of  reliable 
and   useful,  influential   and   controlling   men   of  the 
world  have  had  this  sort  of  origin.     How  rare   that 
distinguished  men  have  been  followed  by  distinguished 
sons.     How  very  rare  that  families,  distinguished  for 
their  wealth,  nurture  those   who   are   discipHned   in 
spirit,  who  prove  strong  in  manly  service,  and  bless- 
ings to  their  friends  and  the  race.     The  difficulty  lies 
in  the  temptations  and  expectations  of  the  too-favored 
lot.     And  it  is  strange  that  the  world  so  abounds  with 
those  who,  to  the  last,  will  strain  every  nerve,  that  they 
may  bring  about  in  their  own  family  circle  this  luxuri- 
ous and  expectant  condition,  which,  the  world  over, 
goes  to  feed  indulgence  and  foster  effeminacy.  ' 

2.  I  remark  further.  That,  in  the  case  before  us,  wo 
have  an  instance  of  God's  adaptation  of  men  to  the 


ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITE.  71 

times.  It  is  as  we  expect,  —  that,  when  he  undertakes 
to  raise  up  men  for  a  particular  service,  thej  are  sure 
to  be  fitted,  qualified,  for  that  special  service.  We  see 
also  what  is  God's  judgment  in  regard  to  a  fitness. 
He  furnishes  men  of  stern  and  bold  qualities  for  times 
of  great  corruption,  —  an  Elijah  for  the  time  of  an 
Ahab.  It  is  true  that  such  come  with  a  jar  and  a  dis- 
sonance, and  for  a  season  they  make  trouble  and  com- 
motion ;  for  there  is  no  other  way.  It  is  the  light 
meeting  the  darkness ;  the  truth  conflicting  with  the 
error ;  the  piety  reproving  and  denouncing  the  sin. 
Whatever  may  be  true  in  medicine,  God's  system  of 
moral  cure  is  by  contraries.  He  puts  forth  the  truth  to 
crowd  out  tlie  error  ;  and  what  if  it  does  happen,  in  the 
fierce  antagonism,  that  tliere  are  seasons  of  confusion 
and  trouble  ?  What  though  the  tempest  twirls  every 
thing  into  disorder,  if  it  only  blows  away  the  miasma  ? 
There  are  some  people  who  are  exceedingly  alarmed 
at  the  presence  or  the  prospect  of  agitation.  But  it  is 
not  well  to  be  frightened  or  to  be  angry  or  to  threaten 
to  go  out  of  the  world,  for  this  reason  ;  because  agita- 
tion is  God's  economy,  and  so  long  as  sin,  with  its 
legion  train,  has  its  present  hold  and  supremacy,  and 
the  men  God  makes  and  means  for  the  world  are  in 
the  world,  agitation  there  will  be.  The  great  Ruler 
will  overturn  and  overturn,  until  he  whose  right  it  is 
shall  come  and  reign.  Rarely  has  there  been  the  time 
when  some  characters,  some  actors  of  the  spirit  and 
stamp  of  the  old  prophet,  have  not  been  needed  and  been 
useful.  At  all  times  there  are  persons  who  will  carry 
an  influence,  wield  a  power,  and  command  respect. 
They  are  often  of  a  rough,  hardy,  almost  a  forbidding, 
character :  they  can  live  anywhere  or  anyhow,  —  in  a 


72  ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITE. 

cave  or  in  a  palace ;  can  receive  their  food  from  a 
crow's  beak  or  a  silver  fork.  There  is  close,  firm  con- 
sistence of  spirit,  —  strong,  compact,  because  of  their 
faith  in  God.  Tliey  are  men  we  are  obliged  to  respect. 
When  we  come  before  them,  we  cannot  help  feeling 
their  presence.  The  truth  lies  within  them  ;  often  it 
is  as  fire  shut  up  in  their  bones,  and  they  can  throw 
it  forth  in  living  sparks,  to  stir  the  consciences  and 
warm  the  souls  of  others.  How  different  from  another 
sort  the  world  breeds  and  brings  before  us,  —  delicate 
and  self-indulgent,  living  to  please  themselves  ;  your 
pliant,  willow  men,  your  silken  men,  prim-toilet  men, 
who  carry  their  fire  and  smoke  between  their  teeth. 
What  will  such  accomplish  for  God  and  humanity  ? 
Our  expectations  are  very  low  in  that  direction,  and 
we  cannot  help  its  being  so. 

3.  I  remark  again,  It  is  wonderful,  in  regard  to  the 
men  God  prepares  and  brings  forward  in  his  provi- 
dence, to  see  how  naturally  and  easily  they  accomplish 
the  greatest  things.  They  lay  foundations  for  all 
coming  time ;  they  strike  blows  which  are  felt  the 
world  over ;  they  shed  an  influence  which  will  not 
expire  till  moral  causes  cease  to  act.  But  they  seem 
to  think  nothing  of  it  themselves ;  they  think  very 
little  of  themselves  ;  they  seem  and  act  as  though 
doing  the  most  common,  every-day  things  in  the  world. 
And  why  is  it  all  so  natural,  so  obvious  and  easy  ? 
Simply  because  they  are  in  the  current  of  God's  prov- 
idence. God  goes  before  them,  and  works  through 
them  and  with  them. 

Here,  let  me  say,  we  find  an  important  practical 
hint  for  the  Christian,  —  for  him  who  would  use  his 
abilities  iu  a  way  to  do  something  for  the  world.     It  is 


ELIJAH  THE   TISHBITE.  73 

that  he  learn  to  discern  the  time  ;  and  to  catch,  as  far 
as  he  can,  the  foreshadowing  of  the  Divine  plan  and 
purposes,  and  learn  what  God  probably  means  to  have 
done,  —  what,  for  the  glory  of  his  name,  and  the  cause 
of  redemption,  must  be  done  ;  so  study  and  move,  that 
his  power  may  come  in  concurrence  with  God's,  that  he 
shall  be  a  co-worker  with  him :  then,  a  little  power,  a 
little  human  capability,  will  bring  to  pass  astonishing 
results.  And  here  faith  will  help  us  wonderfully  ;  for 
faith  is  a  wonderful  discoverer,  especially  where  God's 
mind  and  movements  are  concerned.  Faith  can  see 
them  in  the  far  distance,  and  in  the  shadowy  dimness, 
just  as  the  prophet  saw  the  rain  ;  almost  before  the 
cloud  began  to  form,  when  it  was  the  merest  speck  in 
the  horizon,  he  admonished  the  king  to  seek  shelter 
from  the  deluge  that  would  soon  be  upon  him.  He  fore- 
told its  coming,  he  saw  it  coming,  and  still  he  continued 
to  pray  for  its  coming,  —  prayed  as  earnestly  as  though 
there  had  been  no  promise,  no  prediction,  no  certainty 
in  regard  to  its  coming.  Though  predicted  and  so 
made  certain  by  the  unqualified  Word  of  God,  it  was 
the  prayers  of  the  prophet  that  brought  the  rain. 
Predicted  as  it  was,  had  not  the  prayer  gone  up,  the 
rain  would  not  have  come  down.  And  there  is  no 
mystery,  no  inconsistency  here.  Prayer  is  the  ap- 
pointed means.  The  blessing  shall  be,  the  world 
shall  see  and  know  it ;  but  not  unless  my  people  pray. 
God  says  absolutely,  I  will  do  it.  God  says  condition- 
ally, I  will  be  inquired  of  by  the  house  of  Israel,  that  I 
may  do  it  for  them.  Thus  we  see  what  one  of  the 
Fathers  says  :  "  That  the  promises  of  the  Almighty  do 
not  discharge  our  prayers,  but  suppose  them.  He 
will  do  what  he  undertakes ;  but  we  must  sue  for  what 


74  ELIJAH    THE  TISHBITE. 

we  would  have  him  do.  Oar  petitions  are  included 
in  the  decrees,  the  promises,  the  engagements,  of 
God." 

4.  We  see  the  power  of  a  man,  as  consisting  in  faith. 
Here  lies  his  highest  power  of  beneficence  and  achieve- 
ment ;  because,  as  we  have  said,  such  an  one  is  more 
likely  to  be  timely  in  his  endeavors  ;  and  especially 
because  such  an  one  has  God  with  him,  and  works  the 
work  given  him  by  the  abiding  power  of  God. 

There  is  this  that  I  wish  to  note  in  this  connection ; 
namely,  the  power,  the  moral  efficacy,  of  the  man  of 
God,  —  as  bringing  to  the  minds  of  the  people  the 
thought  of  God,  making  them  to  realize  the  presence 
and  authority  of  God.  This,  I  doubt  not,  was  the 
case  pre-eminently  with  our  prophet,  that  wherever 
he  went  there  went  with  him,  there  was  diffused 
about  him,  the  reverent  realization  of  the  great  God 
he  served.  He  made  the  people  feel  that  there  was 
a  God  in  the  world,  and  a  God  nigh  at  hand.  This 
same  sort  of  impression,  made  deep  and  constant  in 
the  minds  of  the  people,  is.  wanted  exceedingly  at  this 
time.  How  it  would  sober  and  regulate  and  elevate 
society  ;  for  our  disorders,  frivolities,  and  crimes  grow 
largely  out  of  our  atheism,  —  not  theoretic,  but  practi- 
cal, atheism.  God  is  not  retained  in  the  mind.  No 
God,  is  the  wish  of  the  heart ;  the  open,  emblazoning 
label  of  the  character  reads  :  Without  Grod  in  the  world. 
Now  the  great  and  difficult  work  is,  to  have  God 
restored  to  his  place,  —  God  abiding  in  the  thoughts 
and  affections  of  the  moral  beings  he  has  made.  Tiiere 
is  but  one  thing  we  can  hope  to  do  instrumentally  for 
this,  —  godly  living ;  better  far  than  any  miracle  or 
portent  ever  wrought  or  witnessed.     This,  everywhere 


ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITB.  75 

that  God's  people  are,  the  silent  and  strong  influence 
of  godly  living,  would  do  much  to  make  God  realized, 
thought  of,  and  feared,  if  not  served. 

5.  In  my  next  remark,  I  wish  to  note  the  fact  of  the 
good  man's  death  as  being  characteristic  often,  —  as 
flowing  legitimately  and  specifically  from  the  tenor  and 
temper  of  his  life.  But  before  speaking  of  this,  there 
is  another  resemblance  or  congruity  I  will  just  refer 
to,  —  a  resemblance  between  the  traits  of  the  natural 
and  the  renewed  man :  the  fact  that  grace  does  not 
wholly  blot  out  native  traits ;  that  it  does  not  wholly 
overcome  the  constitutional  temperament.  There  will 
always  be  passages  in  the  renewed  character  in  keep- 
ing with  the  former  and  the  general  character.  Hence 
it  was  that  even  the  faith  of  Elijah  could  not  always 
hold  him  up,  and  keep  him  bright  and  cheerful.  See 
him  on  one  occasion.  A  woman  threatens  him  ;  and 
this  prodigy  of  valor,  this  pattern  of  faith,  who  had 
confronted  opposing  tliousands  and  made  kings  tremble 
before  him,  frightened,  flees  for  his  life  ;  and  in  his 
desert  cave  lies,  all  unstrung  and  dependent.  Hear 
his  answer  to  his  Divine  Lord  and  Master :  The  peo- 
ple of  Israel  have  forsaken  thy  covenant,  thrown  doivn 
thine  altars,  and  I  alone  am  left.  And  what  does  this 
mean  ?  It  shows  a  man  of  variable  moods,  given  now 
and  then  to  fits  of  depression  and  melancholy ;  when 
every  thing  is  going  adversely,  seems  to  be  taking  a 
very  plunge  into  ruin.  It  is  something  in  the  physical 
character  and  constitution,  which  even  the  grace  of 
God  has  no  power  fully  to  reach  and  remedy.  We  see 
the  power  of  the  malady,  when  it  could  bring  down 
and  unnerve  such  faith  and  strength  as  Elijah  com- 
monly showed.     But  we  have  only  one  record  of  this 


76  ELIJAH    THE   TISHBITE. 

sort.  Prevailingly,  with  this  man,  it  was  doubtless 
"  spirit  and  power,"  —  an  ardent,  achieving  spirit;  a 
very  soul  of  fire.  He  died.  No  ;  he  did  not  die :  he 
passed  away  characteristically,  —  a  perfectly  fitting 
translation.  Enoch  walked  with  God,  —  a  very  quiet, 
calm,  silent  sort  of  a  man,  probably ;  and  his  transla- 
tion was  as  quiet  as  his  walk.  Only  the  fact  is  re- 
corded in  the  shortest  and  simplest  phrase,  God  took 
him.  But  this  prophet  of  fire  is  caught  and  carried  up 
visibly  by  the  horses  of  fire  and  chariots  of  fire, — 
heaven's  splendid  equipage,  let  down  for  the  purpose. 
This  chapter  I  have  opened,  of  characteristic  dying, 
—  the  calm,  even,  quiet,  dying  quietly;  and  the 
reverse,  too,  appearing,  —  the  ruling  traits  or  passions 
symbolized  in  the  death, —  there  is  not  time  to  pursue 
it. 

But  there  is  another  sort  of  connection  between  the 
life  and  the  death,  far  more  pregnant  and  solemn  than 
that  just  before  indicated.  The  other  is  accidental  and 
varying ;  sometimes  it  is  not  so  :  this  always  so,  —  a 
godly  life,  a  safe  death,  God  has  joined  them  together. 
And  God  is  present  when  his  people  die,  —  if  not  with 
his  visible  chariot,  with  what  is  far  better,  —  with  the 
Spirit  of  his  grace,  and  an  invisible  retinue  of  convoy- 
ing angels.  We  do  not  behold  it,  but  it  is  real.  The 
reward  we  do  not  perceive,  but  it  is  amazing. 

How  God  does  honor  and  reward  his  faithful  ser- 
vants, we  see  in  the  magnificent  ascension  of  his 
prophet.  It  was  not  for  his  own  sake  alone,  that 
the  prophet  went  up  in  that  manner.  We  can  now 
look  over  the  line,  and  see  the  agents  and  powers  of 
that  commonly  hidden  scene.  We  see  the  soul  living 
right  on,  when  passed  over  the  dividing  stream ;  and 


ELIJAH   THE   TISHBITE. 


77 


living,  seemingly,  a  mightier  and  a  vaster  life.  "We 
see,  too,  a  rising  body.  Tell  me  not  there  are  no 
bodies  like  tlicsc  in  heaven.  I  see  one,  — our  ancient 
and  venerable  brother,  —  as  it  tracks  its  wondrous  way, 
and  enters  those  sublime  portals.  I  see  the  beginning 
of  its  glorified  state.  As  the  old  mantle  drops,  I  see, 
succeeding,  the  radiant  vestments  of  its  immortality. 
Brethren,  followers  of  the  Lamb,  let  me  say  here,  that 
that  favored  man  shall  have  no  pre-eminence  over  you, 
if  faithful,  cleaving  fast  to  Him  who  is  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  the  Life.  Wondrous  morn,  —  and  soon  it 
will  come,  when  all  space  shall  be  filled  witli  still  more 
gorgeous  translations,  when  the  elect  of  God,  gathered 
from  the  four  winds,  from  one  end  of  the  atmosphere 
to  the  other,  shall  be  seen,  passing  together  in  tri- 
umphant procession,  with  their  Glorious  Leader, 
through  the  gates  into  the  Eternal  City. 

0  world,  wealth,  honor,  pleasure,  how  despicable 
thou  art,  when  our  eyes  rest  upon  such  a  sight  as  this. 
We  shall  see  it.  Shall  we  be  it  ?  Resolve  that  you 
will,  with  somewhat  of  the  old  prophet's  decisive 
strength  of  purpose  ;  and  then  hold  on  your  way,  look 
up  in  prayer,  persisting  still,  and  fail  not  to  be  one : 
and  so  help  you  God. 


VIT. 

SAUL   THE  EEGRESSIVE  IN  PIETY. 
Is  Saul  also  among  the  jyrophets  ?  —  1  Sam.  x.  11. 

'T^HIS,  we  are  told,  passed  to  be  a  proverb.  It  was 
-■-  originally  uttered  by  the  people,  as  an  expres- 
sion of  their  surprise  at  seeing  Saul  with  a  professed 
company,  engaging  in  religious  duties,  in  the  utter- 
ances of  devotion  and  praise.  Afterward,  when  any 
one  was  seen  suddenly,  and  contrary  to  the  previous 
habit,  in  religious  connections,  and,  with  seeming  liearti- 
ness,  religiously  employed,  this  proverb  leaped  forth, 
Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets  f 

We  must  admit  these  are  touches  of  a  divine  pencil, 
this  whole  character  a  divinely  drawn  character.  And 
let  me  say,  in  the  use  of  the  modern  phrase,  Saul,  thus 
set  before  us,  stands  as  a  representative  man. 

The  words  of  my  text  introduce  us  only  to  his 
religious  character ;  and  in  this  he  represents  a  large 
class,  found  in  every  age,  —  perhaps  never  more  plenty 
than  now ;  a  very  large  class,  marked  by  a  certain 
type  of  experience.  For  the  better  understanding  of 
this  subject,  let  us  turn  to  the  religious  character  of 
Saul,  marking  the  occasions,  the  causes,  the  qualities 
of  it. 

The  first  developments  of  the  character  were  bursts 
of  devotion,  the  utterance  of  thankful  praise. 


SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY.  79 

And  I  observe  here,  — 

1.  That  there  was  a  providential  reason  for  this.  1 
mean,  a  conrse  of  providence  toward  Saul,  adapted 
to  awaken  this  order  of  development.  It  was  a  course 
of  singular,  separating,  opulent  distinction  and  bene- 
faction. Owing  to  tribe,  family,  birth,  it  was  altogether 
unexpected,  an  astounding  surprise,  that  visit  of  the 
prophet  to  him,  under  a  regal  burden  and  gift.  How 
poor  was  Saul  on  the  occurrence  of  this  interview. 
Fivepence  was  all  he  could  raise  to  hand  as  a  present 
to  the  prophet.  But  the  prophet  handed  back  to  him 
a  kingdom ;  giving  him  the  signs  which  were  to  prove 
to  Saul  that  the  hand  of  God  was  in  the  gift,  and  the 
seal  of  God  upon  the  transaction.  And  every  prophetic 
sign  turned  out  just  as  Samuel  said.  So  that,  when 
Saul  came  to  the  last  of  the  signs,  the  pent  fires  of  his 
soul  broke  forth.  Such  lavish  generousness  called  out 
from  his  nature  something  like  gratitude,  worship ; 
so  like,  that  in  that  stage  it  would  have  been  difficult 
to  have  judged  them  any  thing  short  of  the  true. 

We  are  to  take  into  account,  as  in  part  the  reason 
of  this  religious  development  in  Saul,  a  peculiarly 
susceptible  nature,  —  a  nature  that  made  short  turns, 
quickly  variant  in  its  moods,  relieving  itself  by  starts 
and  bursts.  This  appears  in  his  conduct  in  the  cave,  in 
his  savage  hunt  of  David.  At  one  moment  there  was 
the  fury  of  murderous  passion ;  then,  under  the  sign 
of  David's  filial  and  forbearing  love,  a  perfect  tumult 
of  tenderness:  Is  this  thy  voice,  my  son  David?  And 
Saul  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  wept.  Then  what  words 
of  conciliation  and  entreaty  followed.  Some  have 
doubted  as  to  the  antiquity  of  nerves.  I  think  it 
quite  evident  that  they  are  as  old,  at  least,  as  Saul. 


80  SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE    IN    PIETY. 

This  seems  to  have  been  his  order  of  temperament. 
Hence  his  quick  turns  and  susceptibilities,  his  ups  and 
downs,  his  brief  sunshines,  his  longer  and  deeper 
glooms. 

2.  I  remark  again,  that  there  were,  doubtless,  rea- 
sons for  these  better  moods,  and  these  advanced  stages 
of  character,  in  a  divinely  imparted  influence.  What 
God  did  for  Saul  in  his  physical  and  mental  structure 
and  endowments,  we  know  very  well.  What  he  did  in 
the  way  of  specialty  to  fit  him  for  the  high  place,  is  not 
so  clear.  Still,  it  is  evident  that  he  did  something ; 
and  this  something  suddenly  and  summarily.  For  the 
record  says.  It  was  so  that  when  Saul  turned  his  back  to 
go  from  Samuel,  Grod  gave  him  another  heart.  Precisely 
what  and  how  much  is  meant  by  this,  does  not  so 
readily  appear.  It  evidently  did  not  mean,  in  the 
high,  Bible  sense,  a  new  heart.  For  Saul  never  did 
any  thing  distinctively  and  exclusively  appropriate  to 
such  a  heart.  The  phrase,  doubtless,  included  a  cer- 
tain measure  and  character  of  religious  sentiment  and 
action ;  for  Saul  evidently  felt  and  acted  religiously. 
And  this  experience  and  exjiression,  so  far  as  it  went, 
was  doubtless  the  resiilt,  the  product  in  part,  of  spiritual 
influence  divinely  imparted  to  him.  God  certainly,  in 
undertaking  to  endow  a  man  with  kingly  qualities,  that 
he  may  act  in  his  stead,  would  not  altogether  with- 
hold the  religioiis.  Then,  doubtless,  there  were  other 
endowments  giving  him  that  inspiration  of  character, 
that  largeness  and  elevation,  that  tone  and  bearing  of 
authority,  divine  impartations,  embraced  in  the  phrase, 
Crod  gave  him  another  heart.  There  were  what  we  may 
call  the  semi-religious  endowment  and  qualities.  And 
what  were  these  qualities  ? 


SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY.  81 

In  the  beginning,  there  was  an  admirable  self-dis- 
trust and  humility,  that  greatness  and  dignity  of 
soul  which  does  not  allow  itself  to  be  lifted  up  by  sud- 
den prosperity.  Ordinarily,  it  would  be  enough  to 
turn  the  head  of  a  country  youth  to  precipitate  a  king- 
dom upon  him.  But  with  what  strange  reserve  and 
meekness  did  Saul  bear  this  great  honor.  He  shrunk 
from  speaking  of  it  even  to  his  familiar  friends.  And 
when  the  hour  for  the  inauguration  came,  and  all  were 
gathered  to  witness  the  pomp  and  the  ceremony,  the 
elect  monarch,  on  whom  all  eyes  were  eager  to  feast, 
had,  in  his  excess  of  modesty,  hid  himself  among  the 
stuff.  And,  after  the  recognition  and  the  formal  set- 
ting apart,  he  went  back  to  his  old  home,  to  the  care 
of  his  cattle ;  showing,  in  connection  with  this,  not 
only  his  humility,  but  the  noble  quality  of  clemency ; 
interposing,  as  he  did,  to  spare  certain  ones  guilty  of 
insult  to  him,  whom  the  people  would  have  summarily 
despatched  but  for  Saul's  interceding  grace.  And  not 
only  humility  and  mercy,  but  worship,  sacrifice ;  evi- 
dently a  marked  fervor  in  the  utterances  of  devotion, 
and  pretty  certainly  a  uniformity,  a  steadfastness,  in 
his  devotions.  The  religious  rite  or  service  he  seemed 
very  unwilling  to  neglect  or  put  by ;  on  one  occasion 
refusing  the  risks  of  battle  till  he  had  gathered  around 
himself  and  his  army  the  shield  of  the  Divine  favor, 
which  comes  of  observing  the  prayer  and  the  sacri- 
fice. 

But  let  me  say  here,  that  the  material  bearing  on 
the  favorable  side  of  Saul's  character  is  exceedingly 
scant.  It  all  dwindles  down  pretty  much  to  one  item ; 
namely,  that  he  stood  strictly  for  the  observances  of 
religion.     So  far  as  the  kingdom  of  God  was  in  form, 

6 


82  SAUL   THE   EEGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY. 

Saul  went  pertinaciously  with  it.  After  a  little  while 
we  find  that  all  his  scrupulousness  was  for  the  forna, 
the  triviality.  He  ordained  a  fast  when  the  salvation 
of  the  kingdom  depended  on  the  strength  which  comes 
of  food.  He  was  for  putting  his  patriot  son  to  death 
for  a  sin  of  ignorance,  that  was  no  sin  at  all,  —  only 
this,  that  a  senseless  vow  had  been  infringed  ;  and  he 
spared  the  Amalekites,  brought  under  sentence  of 
death  by  God  for  their  sins,  and  he  himself  commis- 
sioned and  sent  as  their  executioner,  —  in  the  face  of 
the  commission  and  the  command  he  spared  them. 
He  could  not  forego,  on  one  occasion,  the  offering 
of  sacrifice,  —  so  very  religious  was  he  ;  but  he  could 
trample  down  God's  rule  and  authority,  in  arrogating 
to  himself  the  priest's  function,  in  order  that  he  might 
do  it.  Again,  he  went  directly  contrary  to  God's  spe- 
cific and  solemn  word,  —  taking  upon  him  to  keep 
alive  what  God  had  commanded  him  to  destroy  :  still, 
only  in  small  part  did  he  save  what  was  thus  doomed. 
Soon  the  propliet  comes,  and  the  king  advances  to 
meet  him,  saying,  I  liave  performed  the  commandment 
of  tlie  Lord,  except  that  a  few  of  the  best  cattle  are  re- 
served for  sacrifice,  —  his  damning  formalism  here  ob- 
truding again,  to  be  rebuked  on  the  spot  with  a  scathing 
force  of  words,  enough,  we  should  think,  to  have 
wilted  it  down  for  the  ages,  never  more  to  rise  again  : 
Hath  the  Lord  as  great  delight  in  burnt-offerings  and 
sacrifices,  as  in  obeying  the  voice  of  the  Lord  ?  Behold, 
to  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  hearken  than  the 
fat  of  rams. 

This  religion  of  Saul,  being  very  much  in  the  ex- 
pression and  form,  was  a  religion  of  appearance,  — 
stood  more  for  the  appearance  with  man,  than  for  the 


SAUL  THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY.  83 

reality  before  God.  Hence  his  impassioned  cry  to 
Samuel,  when  the  old  prophet  was  wrenching  himself 
away  :  /  have  sinned :  yet  honor  me  noiv,  I  pray  thee, 
before  the  elders  of  my  people,  and  before  Israel ;  and 
turn  again  with  me,  that  I  may  worship  the  Lord  thy 
Crod.  His  kingly  standing,  his  reputation  with  the 
people,  was  first  with  him,  —  not  God's  judgment  of 
him. 

The  defect  of  Saul's  religion,  we  see,  lay  in  the 
temper  and  habit  of  his  heart,  and  in  the  spirit  of  his 
obedience :  the  heart  not  right,  the  obedience  not 
thorough  and  entire. 

Let  me  state  here,  in  gathering  up  some  of  the  prac- 
tical instructions  of  this  case,  that  there  are  two  kinds 
of  piety,  which  may  be  described  as  the  Regressive 
and  the  Progressive.  The  first  is  not  valid  ;  its  more 
common  sign  being  from  seeming  good  to  bad,  and 
from  bad  to  worse,  though  not  always,  perhaps  not 
commonly,  running  into  downright  immorality.  The 
other  is  sound ;  and  its  sign  is  growth,  advance  from 
good  to  better,  and  on  to  the  perfect.  Passing  the 
more  genial  and  pleasant  topic,  I  propose,  at  the  pres- 
ent, to  draw  what  light  and  quickening  we  may  from 
the  gloom  and  the  deadliness  gathered  in  the  other. 

The  Regressive  in  piety,  —  there  is  such  a  character. 
Oh  how  frequently  found.  How  many,  who,  for  a 
time,  were  in  the  prophesying  ranks,  in  the  prayer- 
meeting,  the  assemblies  of  worship  and  praise,  inter- 
ested, and  uttering  that  interest :  but  not  now.  Ye 
began  and  did  run  well  seemingly  ;  then  came  the 
reverse  step.  Are  there  not  those  here  to-day  before 
whose  minds  these  remarks  call  up  a  vivid  passage  of 
their  lives  ?     And  I  venture   to   say  you   then  pro- 


84  SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY. 

nounced  it  the  best,  the  happiest  passage.  Oh  how- 
happy,  if  it  only  had  held  ou.  How  sad,  as  it  is  now 
going  with  you.  How  sad,  that  so  blessed  a  beginning 
should,  almost  at  the  threshold,  have  been  swallowed 
up  in  abortion.  How  sad,  I  imagine,  some  of  your 
thoughts,  in  the  still,  retrospective  hour ;  and  sadder 
yet,  in  the  dread  foreboding  hour.  How  sad,  when 
you  come  to  the  end  and  to  your  reckoning  with  God, 
to  hear  your  doom  from  his  lips. 

Think  of  Saul's  course,  written  out  for  your  warning, 
—  his  early  and  blushing  honors,  and  dawning  hopes  ; 
then  his  faltering  distrust,  his  politic  disobedience  ; 
then  his  gloominess,  his  soul-laceration,  his  spasms  of 
frantic  agony,  his  enmity,  his  malignity,  despair, — 
the  God  who  once  heard  hearing  him  no  more ;  then 
the  crowning  daring,  of  a  resort  to  the  spirit-world, 
and  thence  coming  the  mutter  of  his  destiny ;  and  in 
that,  the  finish  and  climax  of  his  soul's  horror,  the 
symbol  of  what  succeeded,  the  soul's  self-destruction, 
consummate  and  eternal. 

This  character  and  end,  I  repeat,  is  written  out  for 
our  warning.  And  for  one  1  feel  it  to  be  salutary. 
And  if  it  have  its  due  eifect  upon  us,  what  will  the 
effect  be  ?     I  answer,  — 

1.  It  will  make  us  afraid  of  the  beginning  of 
sin,  the  first  dropping  from  duty,  the  first  symptom 
of  departure  from  our  profession  and  allegiance.  And, 
back  of  this  and  as  preventive  of  this,  it  will  put  us 
on  the  watch,  and  suggest  to  us  the  wisdom  of  great 
sharpness  and  severity  of  self-scrutiny.  This  being 
deceived  about  ourselves,  taking  ourselves  for  some- 
thing when  we  are  nothing,  is  most  wretched  business. 
And  we  cannot  but  fear  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of 


SAUL  THE   REGRESSIVE  IN  PIETY.  85 

it.  It  is  not  falling  from  grace  :  it  is  being  nothing  in 
the  start.  Consider  this  as  held  forth  in  our  teaching 
character  to-day,  —  namely,  the  tenacity  of  this  self- 
deceiving.  How  it  held  on  in  Saul  through  all  his 
moods  of  rebellion  and  reeking  murder, —  ever  and 
anon  the  interhide  opening  when  he  would  whine  the 
saint.  This  delusion  of  character  and  hope,  it  seems 
sometimes  as  though  it  would  kennel  in  the  soul  with 
avarice  and  lust  and  treason,  and  with  the  father  of 
all  these,  —  the  Arch-fiend  himself. 

This  fact,  while  it  admonishes  us  to  enter  on  the 
work  of  self-scrutiny,  admonishes  also  to  a  thorough- 
ness in  it.  Better  not  to  do  it  at  all,  than  not  do  it 
profoundly  and  rightly,  —  avoiding  what  is  so  common 
with  us,  a  resting  in  the  superficial  testimony  and 
evidence.  "  Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets  ? "  Yes. 
And  himself  prophesying  ?  Yes.  Then  write  him 
down  a  saint.  Sometimes,  I  fear,  our  judging  is  about 
as  shoal  and  summary  as  this. 

2.  I  wish  to  say  here,  that  the  deceptive  marks,  those 
which  more  commonly  do  minister  to  the  deception, 
are  the  obtrusive  marks,  —  pertaining  to  the  surface, 
and  so  ever  protruding  themselves  ;  whilst  the  deep 
and  vital  and  real  are  the  hidden  ones,  down  in  the 
place  that  is  out  of  sight.  Let  me  repeat  and  be  em- 
phatic here,  for  here  is  the  rock  of  uncounted  wrecks. 
He  appears  well,  he  speaks  well,  prays  well.  Suppose  I 
should  now  say  to  you,  that  this  fact,  taken  apart,  — 
I  say,  taken  apart,  —  is  among  the  most  unreliable  of 
the  evidences  that  he  is  a  Christian ;  nothing  here 
necessarily  conclusive  that  he  is ;  nothing  here  that 
necessarily  brings  out  the  vital  centre  of  the  man. 
We  do  not  see  that,  the  vital  centre,  in  his  lip-service. 
God  alone  can  see  that  pregnant  inside. 


bb  SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY. 

A  man  in  certain  moods  and  with  certain  gifts  can 
transfer  that  inside  into  any  form  and  show  of  outside 
sentiment  and  testifying  he  pleases.  "  Some  of  yon," 
said  Dr.  Chalmers,  in  one  of  his  grand  and  dissecting 
strains,  —  "  some  of  you  have  heard  of  the  individual 
who,  under  the  oppression  of  melancholy,  seeking 
counsel  of  his  physician,  was  advised  by  him  to  attend 
the  performances  of  a  comedian  who  had  put  all  the 
world  into  ecstasies.  But  it  turned  out,  that  the  patient 
was  himself  the  comedian.  And,  whilst  his  smile  was 
to  all  the  signal  of  merriment,  his  heart  stood  un- 
cheercd  and  begrimmed  before  the  gratulations  of  the 
applauding  multitude,  evening  after  evening,  a  poor, 
helpless,  stricken  mourner,  amid  the  tumults  of  the 
high-sounding  gayety  himself  had  created."  Whilst 
the  kingdom  of  God  is  in  power,  there  is  a  simulation 
of  it  in  word  only  ;  and  so  well  simulated,  that,  if  you 
do  not  go  below  the  words,  you  cannot  tell  the  differ- 
ence. But,  if  you  go  down  to  the  silent  and  salient 
centre  of  the  man,  there  is  a  difference  world  wide. 
It  is  where  Saul  did  not  go,  and  where  none  of  his 
type  at  this  day  go.  He  consecrated  himself  to  a 
certain  extent,  and  so  far  became  religious  as  to  pray, 
praise,  prophesy,  go  to  meeting,  observe  the  forms. 
And  so  far  he  stood  to  it.  But  the  outer  cuticle  and 
the  remotest  fibre  of  his  selfishness  was  not  touched 
by  all  this  ;  thongh  he  was  sincere  in  it  all,  very  likely, 
and  thought  quite  well  of  himself,  with  his  nice  out- 
side dress  of  religion,  and  his  silken,  ribbony  words, 
venturing  to  say,  /  have  performed  the  commandment  of 
the  Lord.  And  it  came  back  from  the  old  prophet  like 
a  shaft  of  granite  whelming  him,  Wliat  meaneth  then 
this  bleating  of  the  sheep  in  mitie  ears,  and  the  lowing  of 


SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY.  87 

the  oxen  which  I  hear  ?  It  means  that  the  sheep  and 
the  oxen  are  left  out  of  his  bill  of  consecration.  What 
his  soul's  selfishness  craved  he  kept  for  himself,  —  all 
of  tliat  he  kept  for  himself.  And  this  is  the  core  of 
the  difficulty,  the  inmost  centre  of  his  rottenness. 
And  right  here,  let  me  say,  abides  the  vitiating  defect 
now.  The  sheep,  the  oxen,  tlie  logs,  the  stocks,  the 
moneys,  —  whatever  will  contribute  to  the  gratification 
and  the  pride  of  life,  —  is  left  wholly  out,  I  fear,  of 
many  and  many  a  pretended  Christian  consecration. 

My  friends,  there  is  a  chapter  here,  in  our  profess- 
edly religious  doings  and  not  doings,  which  it  frightens 
me  to  think  of  looking  at  the  headings  and  titles  of. 
The  man  comes  well  attired,  grave,  in  good  seeming 
to  make  the  offer  of  himself  to  God  in  the  house  of 
God  ;  when  that  same  God  sees  and  knows,  that  at 
least  nine-tenths  of  all  he  solidly  values  and  vigor- 
ously lives  for  is  outside  of  the  pale  of  his  consecration. 
The  safe  iron  box  is  at  home,  under  his  own  key  and 
keeping.  He  means  it  shall  be,  and  probably  it  will 
be.  I  tremble  on  account  of  our  superficialness.  I 
include  myself  in  this  remark,  and  personally  tremble  ; 
and  pray  God  to  probe  down  into  us,  and  so  fetch  us 
nearer  to  his  own  standard,  to  the  making  our  all  over 
to  him.  We  can  have  no  assurance  as  Christians  till 
we  do  this.  The  probability  is  against  us  that  we  are 
Christians,  if  we  know  this  and  do  it  not. 

And  let  there  be  the  repentings  and  humiliations  for 
past  shortcomings.  Let  us  come  before  God  for  these 
things,  and  deal  directly  with  God,  as  Saul  did  not  do. 
He  confessed  to  David  and  to  Samuel,  and  begged 
forgiveness  of  the  prophet,  —  none  from  God;  show- 
ing by  this  that  he  had  no  thought  or  sense  of  the 


88  SAUL   THE   REGRESSIVE   IN   PIETY. 

enormity  of  his  guilt.  May  God  help  us  to  thorough- 
ness. May  his  law  come  home  to  us,  that  we  may 
know,  in  the  phrase  of  President  Edwards,  "  the  infi- 
nite upon  infinite  of  our  sin ; "  and  then  let  us  not 
faint  or  despair,  but,  knowing  the  Saviour  revealed, 
his  boundless  compassion,  and  his  unlimited  capacity 
and  reach  of  forgiveness  through  his  sacrifice  and 
blood,  let  us  go  to  him,  and  in  faith  cast  all  upon  his 
mercy ;  and  in  truth  devote  all  to  his  service  in  a 
spirit  of  wholeness  and  in  a  rigor  of  fidelity  that  will 
never  retract  and  never  falter. 


VIII. 

CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

But  my  servant  Qaleh,  because  he  had  another  spirit  with  Idm, 
and  hath  followed  me  fully,  him  toill  I  bring  into  the  land 
whereinto  he  went ;  and  his  seed  shall  possess  it,  —  Num. 
xiv.  24. 

N  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Joshua,  we  find  a  record 
of  the  accomplishment  of  this  declaration  or  prom- 
ise, as  follows  :  Hebron  therefore  became  the  inheritance 
of  Caleb  the  son  of  Jephimneh  the  Kenezite  unto  this  day, 
because  that  he  wholly  followed  the  Lord  God  of  Israel. 

We  have  here  presented,  briefly  but  clearly,  the 
religious  character  of  Caleb.  The  service  by  which  his 
character  was  tested,  and  in  the  performance  of  which 
he  won  this  marked  distinction  and  approval,  was  liis 
thorough  search  and  true  report  of  the  condition  and 
resources  of  the  land  of  Canaan.  The  individuals  sent 
on  tliis  search,  twelve  in  number,  all  agreed  in  report- 
ing that  the  land  was  a  land  of  great  beauty  and  fer- 
tility ;  but  ten  of  them  went  on  to  discourage  the 
Israelites  from  attempting  to  take  possession  of  it  as 
God  had  directed  them  to  do,  because  the  inhabitants 
were  numerous  and  strong,  and  their  cities  impregna- 
bly  fortified.  Upon  hearing  tliis,  the  people  murmured 
on  account  of  the  dangers  that  awaited  them.  Joshua 
and  Caleb   rent  their   clothes,  protested  against  the 


90  CALEB;    OR,    FOLLOWING   FULLY. 

pusillanimous  report  the  craven  ten  had  made,  and 
contended  that  the  country  might  be  easily  subdued  in 
the  name  of  Jehovah.  God  was  displeased  with  the 
murmuring  and  rebellious  multitude,  and  passed  upon 
them,  with  the  solemnity  of  an  oath,  tlie  sentence  of 
universal  excision  in  the  wilderness  ;  then  added,  But 
as  for  my  servant  Caleb,  who  has  faithfully  followed 
me,  him  will  I  bring  into  the  land,  and  he  shall  possess 
it,  he  and  his  children.  We  see  that  the  description 
of  this  ancient  disciple  is  slightly  varied  in  the  different 
places.  In  one,  it  reads,  He  hath  followed  me  faith- 
fully ;  in  another.  He  hath  followed  me  wholly ;  and 
again,  He  hath  followed  me  fully  :  all  the  descriptions, 
however,  bear  the  same  meaning,  and  that  meaning 
very  obvious.  The  main  idea  is  that  of  the  wholeness, 
entireness,  totality. 

Following  God  wholly :  it  means  with  the  whole 
heart.  Great  account  is  made  of  this  in  Scripture, — 
the  heart-service,  service  with  all  the  heart.  This  God 
everywhere  insists  on,  —  unvarying,  unfaltering  single- 
ness of  purpose  and  affection.  Thou  slialt  have  no 
other  gods  before  me,  is  not  only  the  first,  the  begin- 
ning, of  the  commandments ;  it  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  every  thing  that  comes  after.  Ye  cannot  serve 
God  and  Mammon,  is  not  only  a  declaration  of  Scrip- 
ture, but  an  axiom  of  our  common  sense. 

Following  him  fully :  it  extends  to  all  the  faculties 
we  possess,  takes  in  all  the  talents,  all  the  powers, 
God  has  given  us.  Inasmuch  as  they  came  from  him, 
their  strength  and  influence  should  revert  back  to 
him ;  all  made  to  terminate  on  his  kingdom  and 
glory. 

Following  him  fully :  it  extends  to  and  embraces  all 


CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY.         91 

the  requisitions  of  God's  Word,  the  entire  circle  and 
detail  of  Christian  duty.  In  the  character  described, 
there  is  no  disposition  to  make  exceptions ;  to  pray  to 
be  excused  in  regard  to  certain  matters ;  to  think  a 
great  deal  better  of  the  Bible,  if  its  strictness  could 
only  be  abated,  somehow  explained  away.  The  one 
following  fully  docs,  indeed,  come  short,  —  and  none 
so  keenly  sensible  of  it  as  he ;  yet  never  is  it  matter 
of  calculation  with  him  ;  never  the  springing  up  of 
the  desire  to  be  relieved  from  a  portion  of  that  enjoined 
upon  liim.  His  aim  is  to  be  thorough,  conscientious  in 
little  things,  in  all  things,  and  to  love  duty  in  all  tlie 
wholesome  severities  of  it. 

The  following  fully,  extends  to,  takes  in,  all  times 
and  all  circumstances.  It  is  a  following  God  when 
scorn  points  her  finger,  and  obloquy  hurls  its  re- 
proaches, and  persecution  builds  her  dungeons  and 
kindles  her  fires ;  professing  him,  adhering  to  him  ; 
come  what  may,  neither  fearing  nor  faltering.  And 
Avhat  is  more  difficvilt,  and  more  decisive  of  the  follow- 
ing fully,  is  the  adhering  to  God,  faithful  to  the  spirit 
and  duties  of  religion  in  times  of  prevailing  indifference, 
coldness.  This,  indeed,  was  the  very  test-point  in  the 
case  of  Caleb  and  Joshua.  Ten  of  their  companions 
broke  away  from  their  allegiance  to  the  truth  and  to 
God;  and  the  whole  body  of  the  people  followed 
these  recreant  ten.  But  these  two  stood  firm, 
stood  alone ;  resisted  the  overwhelming  torrent  of  in- 
iquity ;  maintained  their  integrity,  and  persevered,  and 
blenched  not.  Thus  it  was  they  won  the  encomium  of 
following  fully.  This  is  very  plain ;  namely,  tliat  it 
is  one  thing  to  follow  the  Lord  at  such  a  time,  quite 
another  thing  to  follow  him  when   all  things  favor ; 


92         CALEB  ;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

when  the  current  sets  that  way,  so  that  it  is  popular 
to  put  on  the  seeming  of  religion ;  religion  being  the 
talk  in  the  house  and  the  shop  and  in  the  very  mart 
of  business.  Many  will  fall  in  at  such  a  time,  who 
have  no  good  foundation,  no  abiding  principle  planted 
in  the  heart ;  and  who  will  fall  off  in  the  time  of 
spiritual  drouth  and  dearth.  When  the  popular  inter- 
est is  in  another  direction ;  when  some  gilded  bauble, 
some  scheme  of  gain,  some  flaunting  amusement,  is 
the  grand  attraction,  —  then  where  are  the  Christians  ? 
Then  is  the  time  to  find  them  out,  to  count  and  set 
down  the  reliable  ones. 

Circumstances  of  a  more  limited  character  furnish 
the  opportunity  of  reaching  this  rare  distinction  of  fol- 
lowing fully.  The  havoc  of  circumstances,  how  sad, 
how  terrible,  as  witnessed  on  every  hand.  Some,  in 
changing  their  business,  will  exchange  away  the  spirit 
and  hope  of  their  religion.  Some,  in  leaving  their  old 
place  of  abode,  will  put  off,  or  wear  very  loosely,  in 
their  new  residence,  the  garb  of  piety.  Some,  by  enter- 
ing into  new  domestic  alliances,  or  connections  more 
unfavorable  to  religion  than  surrounded  them  before, 
will  compromise,  and  gradually  give  up,  their  Christian 
profession.  There  are  others  who  will  not,  but  will 
take  their  religion,  a  humble,  faithful  piety,  wherever 
they  go  themselves ;  at  least,  silent  reprovers  in  the 
presence  of  all  wickedness,  shedding  some  heavenly 
light,  though  dwelling  in  the  thickest  darkness  of 
error  ;  imparting  some  savor  of  Christ  under  the  very 
seat  and  throne  of  Satan  himself.  Such  come  into  the 
rank  of  followers  fully,  disciples.  Christians  altogether, 
at  all  times  and  in  all  circumstances.  And  the  reason 
they  are  such  is,  that  they  have  another  spirit  with 


CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY.         93 

them,  as  Caleb  ;  another  spirit,  one  altogether  different 
from  tlie  spirit  found  in  worldly  men,  in  the  great 
majority  of  men  ;  a  spirit,  a  principle,  a  consecration, 
which  is  the  work  and  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ; 
not  nature,  but  grace  ;  a  gracious  renewal,  the  heart's 
deep  change,  tlie  love  of  God  implanted  as  supreme. 
Out  of  this  springs  true  soul-courage.  The  soul,  lov- 
ing, fearing,  the  Infinite  One,  is  thereby  ready  for  any 
emergency.  The  scorn,  tlie  threats,  of  hostile  millions 
are  as  nothing  when  against  the  will  or  the  honor  of 
God.  Tliis  is  what  sustained  that  ancient  disciple  when 
he  stood  so  sublimely  alone  ;  so  firmly  stood  when  all 
others  quailed  and  fell.  The  people  were  ready  to 
stone  him,  but  the  glory  of  the  Lord  flamed  between 
to  prevent  them.  This  same  spirit,  tlie  love  of  God 
made  regent,  the  fear  of  God  casting  out  all  other  fear, 
is  indispensable  as  a  prerequisite  in  carrying  through 
our  religion  in  a  corrupt,  time-serving  age,  when  inter- 
est is  stronger  than  conscience,  and  when  the  honor 
derived  from  one  another  is  more  highly  prized  than 
the  honor  which  cometh  from  God  only. 

It  is  obvious  to  every  one,  that  there  are  many  things 
to  be  said  in  favor  of  setting  up  this  standard  of  striv- 
ing ;  many  motives  that  persuade  to  this  thorough-going 
style  of  discipleship. 

I.  And  one  consideration  is,  that  any  thing  decidedly 
short  of  this  will  endanger  our  salvation  ;  short  of 
this,  perhaps  fatally,  eternally  short.  Of  those  old 
disciples  or  professors,  we  read  this  fact,  that  the 
whole  mass  who  fell  below  Caleb's  standard  were 
doomed  to  lay  their  bones  in  the  wilderness ;  not  one 
permitted  to  enter  the  earthly  Canaan.  How  true  is  it, 
that  most  of  us  called  Christians  are  living  far  below 


94  CALEB  ;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

tlie  Lord's  standard  of  privilege  and  duty  ;  thus  we  are 
living  in  a  condition  of  fearful  uncertainty  as  to  what 
is  our  character  and  destiny,  because  living  to  work 
out  the  problem  how  little  piety  will  succeed  in  getting 
the  soul  into  heaven.  And  who  can  solve  this  problem  ? 
Where  the  oracle  that  will  give  us  a  response  ?  where 
the  balance  that  will  weigh  out  for  us  the  smallest 
amount  of  questionable  religion  that  will  suffice  to 
secure  the  soul's  standing  in  its  final  exigency  ?  This 
whole  region  is  spread  with  gloom  and  doubt.  What 
will  come  to  those  occupying  it,  none  can  tell  till  the 
Judge  shall  pronounce.  Very  likely  some  will  be 
saved  from  this  section,  this  dubious  ground,  but 
they  will  know  very  little  about  heaven  till  they  get 
into  it ;  and  know  there  but  little  as  compared  with 
some  others.  Though  this  is  a  common  way  of  get- 
ting along,  we  must  all  confess  it  is  a  very  poor  way. 
There  is  certainly  a  better  one,  and  we  know  what  it 
is, — to  be  Christians  wholly.  Then  no  question  about 
the  present  or  the  future,  on  our  own  part  or  any- 
body's else.  The  promise  is  unqualified.  Such  shall 
possess  the  land.  They  shall  possess  it  as  an  inherit- 
ance, and  also  as  a  conquest.  This  l§ads  me  to  another 
consideration,  in  which  I  pass  from  the  question  of 
personal  safety  to  that  of  influence,  achievement. 

II.  The  power  of  influence  and  achievement,  on  the 
part  of  the  follower  of  God,  lies  in  his  character,  then 
in  his  actions :  1.  In  what  he  is ;  2.  In  what  he  puts 
forth.  So  far  as  it  abides  in  the  personal  character,  it 
essentially  lies  in  the  completeness  of  the  character. 
Let  it  be  otherwise,  —  a  sort  of  half-and-half  charac- 
ter ;  some  good  things  in  him,  about  as  many  question- 
able things ;  engaged  in  religion  one  day,  buried  in 


CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY.         95 

the  world,  furiously  rapacious  after  its  gains,  the  next ; 
a  saint  in  his  closet,  a  villain  at  his  counter,  —  what 
the  influence  ?  what  tlie  impression  coming  from 
his  character  ?  what  the  balance  between  the  seeming 
good  and  the  unquestioned  evil  ?  In  such  a  case,  we 
must  say,  the  influence  is  all  on  the  wrong  side ;  all 
goes  to  swell  the  tide  of  sin,  and  help  on  the  work  of 
death. 

But  take  a  somewhat  less  objectionable  case,  one 
where  there  is  but  little  that  is  wrong,  still  a  little. 
What  the  beneficent  force  of  the  character  in  this 
instance  ?  Need  it  be  said,  that  it  is  exceedingly 
impaired,  —  on  the  principle  inspiration  recognizes,  and 
all  experience  confirms,  that  dead  files  cause  the  oint- 
ment of  the  apothecary  to  send  forth  a  stinking  savor :  so 
doth  a  little  folly,  him  that  is  in  reputation  for  wisdom 
and  honor  ?  And  so,  we  may  add,  does  a  little  sin  in 
him  who  is  in  reputation  for  piety.  The  principle  lies 
in  the  incongruity,  the  deep  offensiveness,  of  an  ill  odor 
coming  out  of  a  fountain  of  sweetness  ;  of  a  foul  blot 
upon  a  fair  and  beautiful  surface.  Hence  it  is  in  re- 
ligion, that  little  things  test  the  character.  Thus,  too, 
little  things  spoil  the  character,  and  nullify  all  power 
of  good  from  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  efficacy  of  the 
character,  its  emanating  influence  for  good,  depends 
upon  the  fulness  and  the  rightness  of  it ;  always  obey- 
ing, doing,  giving,  shining.  Such  characters  carry 
conviction  with  them ;  such  make  it  known  and  felt 
that  there  is  a  difference  between  him  that  serveth 
God  and  him  that  serveth  him  not ;  and  make  it  felt, 
too,  in  the  souls  of  ungodly  men,  that  they  must  be 
radically  changed,  or  they  never  can  see  life. 

The  man  who  thus  accomplishes  good  by  what  he  is, 


96         CALEB;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

will  also  accomplish  it  by  what  he  does.  The  character 
that  sends  forth  an  influence  to  impress,  will  dictate 
the  deeds  that  will  achieve.  There  is  a  spirit  there 
that  will  carry  him  forth  in  earnest  endeavor ;  no 
matter  how  hard  the  field,  ready  and  eager  is  he  to 
enter  upon  it ;  and  for  that  reason,  because  forbidding 
and  resisting,  —  even  as  Caleb  chose  Hebron  for  his 
inheritance,  because  the  Anakims  were  there,  and 
there  was  contesting  and  heroic  work  to  be  done.  Not 
only  does  the  field  that  has  work  in  it  invite  him, 
but,  when  in  it,  he  is  there  to  show  the  mind  and 
the  sinew  to  do  the  work.  And  the  work,  the  action, 
tlie  sacrifice,  backed  up  by  such  a  spirit  and  such 
a  character,  one  of  the  whole-hearted  stamp,  one  the 
whole  world  knows  to  be  of  God,  and  to  stand  in 
the  right ;  the  labor  of  such  an  one  will  never  be  in 
vain.  Where  the  labor  goes,  the  life  will  go  with  it, 
and  give  it  authority  and  force.  Where  the  tongue 
strikes  a  blow  for  the  Master's  cause,  the  example 
follows  it  with  another ;  the  weight  and  force  of  the 
example  deepening  and  infixing  the  impression  of  the 
tongue.  All  pertaining  to  the  man  is  concvirrent  and 
persistent,  all  compacted,  and  directed  to  the  one  end 
for  which  he  lives,  to  serve  God's  kingdom  and  tlie 
world's  welfare.  That  is  following  fully  ;  and  tliat  is 
the  way  to  bring  something  to  pass ;  something  the 
rust  will  not  eat,  nor  the  fires  burn.  The  measure  of 
good  done,  God  will  recognize  at  the  last,  and  crown 
it  with  awards  the  Infinite  alone  can  mete  out,  and 
the  Eternal  alone  be  the  theatre  of.  It  is  obvious  to 
remark,  in  view  of  this  subject,  — 

1.  That  being  a  whole  Christian  is  an  exceedingly 
great  advance  upon  being  half  a  one.    Indeed,  the  case 


CALEB  ;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY.         97 

is  such,  that  no  addition  or  multiplication  of  the  half 
will  make  the  whole.  One  of  the  latter  sort  in  moral 
prowess  and  strength,  will  chase  a  thousand  of  the 
former,  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to  flight.  By  no 
rule  of  arithmetic  or  law  of  morals  are  the  two  sorts 
in  any  way  comparable.  The  fragment  of  a  Christian 
doomed  to  this  diminutiveness,  who  is  he  ?  The  Chris- 
tian a  little  for  God,  and  not  a  little  for  Mammon ;  a 
Christian  only  by  church-enrolment,  —  only  known  to 
be  such  on  communion  days ;  a  Christian,  rarely,  if 
ever,  at  the  prayer-meeting ;  never  in  the  field  of  self- 
denial,  in  the  front  of  the  conflict  and  the  peril. 

2.  It  is  further  obvious,  that  what  is  wanted  in  our 
time  is  not  so  much  more  Christians  as  more  Chris- 
tianity ;  not  more  in  number,  but  more  in  quantity. 
I  have  thought,  sometimes,  that  we  might  say  of  re- 
ligion as  is  said  of  learning,  —  that  a  little  religion 
is  a  dangerous  thing ;  dangerous  in  its  bearing  upon 
others.  I  mean  the  half-and-half  sort,  the  attempted 
mixture  of  the  good  and  bad,  the  strong  patch  on  the 
old  and  rending  garment ;  a  medley  of  inconsisten- 
cies, a  bundle  of  contradictions,  a  problem  dark  with 
enigmas.  The  men  who  live  thus  are  good  men  some 
of  them,  we  fain  would  believe,  back  in  the  secret 
place  of  the  soul,  and  will  get  to  heaven,  we  earnestly 
hope ;  but  there  are  so  many  foibles  and  detractions 
and  downright  failures  to  be  and  do,  and  so  many 
harmful  things  emanating  from  them  as  they  pass  along 
toward  their  final  rest,  so  little  that  is  the  Christian, 
so  much  not  the  Christian,  that  it  seems  a  decided 
misfortune  to  the  world  that  they  are  so  long  getting 
through  and  getting  home.  Oh  for  Christians  of  the 
other  pattern.    Oh  that  God  would  bring  us  all  to  be 

7 


98         CALEB  ;  OR,  FOLLOWING  FULLY. 

such,  by  discipline,  by  suffering,  by  persecution,  by 
any  thing. 

And  if  any  are  meditating  a  beginning  in  the  Chris- 
tian life,  let  it  be  a  full-hearted  beginning,  on  no  plan 
of  division  or  compromise,  but  laying  your  all  at  the 
Master's  feet.  Many  there  are  who  try  long  and  try 
hard,  and  then  wonder  they  are  not  accepted  as  Chris- 
tians. Not  accepted.  Why  they  have  brought  nothing 
for  God  to  accept.  They  keep  back  all  that  is  vital  and 
central.  What  wants  he  of  the  dead  and  flimsy  shell  ? 
The  moment  you  go  with  your  all,  your  life  and  love 
and  possession,  make  that  over,  how  quick  will  come 
the  response  of  reception,  and  how  radiant  on  your 
soul  shall  fall  the  beams  of  his  light  and  favor.  And 
this,  let  me  tell  you,  is  the  Christian  beginning  that 
will  be  succeeded  by  a  happy  and  prosperous  life  in 
Christ.  Every  thing  laid  down  at  the  outset,  then 
every  thing  comes  easily  afterward.  Self-denial,  sacri- 
fice, is  easy,  most  cheerful  and  blessed,  because  such 
have  one  and  the  same  interest  in  God.  Try  to  be, 
and  may  God  enable  you  to  be,  a  follower  of  him,  a 
disciple,  a  Christian,  like  that. 


IX. 

THOSE  LOOKING  BACK  NOT   FIT  FOR   THE  KINGDOM. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  No  man  having  put  his  hand  to  the 
plough,  aiid  looking  hack,  is  Jit  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  — 
Luke  ix.  62. 

'THHIS  is  the  reply  of  the  Saviour  to  one  who  said 
-*-  unto  him,  Ziord,  Iwillfolloto  thee;  hut  let  me  first 
go  hid  them  fareivell  which  are  at  home,  at  my  house. 
And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  No  man  having  put  his  hand 
to  the  plough,  and  looking  hack,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of 
Cfod.  The  Saviour,  by  using  this  proverbial  expres- 
sion, evidently  meant  to  say,  that  those  who  came  and 
offered  themselves  to  be  his  disciples,  with  minds  di- 
vided, irresolute,  were  not  fit  for  his  kingdom  ;  not  fit 
to  meet  tlie  duties  of  it ;  not  fit  for  the  employments 
and  rewards  of  it.  There  is  a  similar  passage  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews :  JVbw  the  just  shall  live  hy 
faith  ;  hut,  if  any  man  draiv  hack,  my  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure  in  him.  Indeed,  there  is  a  great  deal  said  in 
the  Bible  on  this  subject  of  faltering  and  falling  back  ; 
looking  back  and  drawing  back ;  beginning  to  build, 
and  not  being  able  to  finish :  and  the  reason,  doubt- 
less, of  there  being  so  much  said  is,  that  there  is  so 
much  of  this  in  fact,  in  the  actual  world  of  religious 
experience  and  endeavor,  and  that  it  is  so  unsuitable, 
so  unworthy.     Hence  it  is,  that  the  great  admonitory 


100  THOSE  LOOKING  BACK 

mnemonic  of  antiquity  lifts  up  and  utters  its  short, 
sharp  warning  to  all  the  successive  generations,  Re- 
member Lofs  wife. 

And  why  is  it,  how  to  be  accounted  for,  that  there 
is  so  much  of  this  beginning  and  not  continuing,  —  so 
many  who  put  their  hand  to  the  plough,  and  then  let 
go  their  hold  ?  Almost  every  one,  indeed,  brought  up 
amid  religious  privileges  and  influences  is  at  some 
time  more  or  less  earnestly  induced  to  move  in  the 
direction  of,  to  take  some  steps  in  the  way  of,  religion. 
They  more  diligently  and  seriously  read  and  study  the 
Word  of  God  ;  they  kneel  in  the  place  of  secret  prayer  ; 
they  give  an  unwonted  attention  to  the  means  of 
grace ;  and  they  have  feeling  and  interest  in  the  great 
concern.  The  fact  that  there  is  very  much  of  this  sort 
of  movement  in  the  world,  —  a  movement  in  the  souls  of 
men  toward  religion,  —  shows  that  the  souls  of  men  were 
made  to  be  religious,  and  with  capacities  to  be  satisfied 
with  nothing  less.  When  startled  by  the  action  of 
conscience,  or  agitated  by  foreboding  fears,  or  stirred 
by  generous  aspirations,  they  put  their  hand  to  the 
plough.  This  fact  is  so.  Then  the  other  statement 
finds,  too,  its  verification  :  they  look  back,  and  by  and 
by  they  give  up  and  go  back. 

And  there  is  a  reason  for  this  faltering  and  revers- 
ing the  step,  as  well  as  for  the  hopeful  setting  out. 
And  the  reason  is  in  part  found  in  the  conditions  of 
discipleship.  These  conditions  are  not  what  was  at 
first  imagined:  they  are  somewhat  more  uncompro- 
mising than  was  supposed,  laying  the  unqualified  re- 
quisition upon  the  whole  man  at  the  present  moment. 
This  was  what  made  the  difficulty,  the  faltering  in 
those  cases  of  proffered  discipleship  described  in  the 


NOT   FIT   FOR   THE   KINGDOM.  101 

context.  One  says,  Lord,  I  will  folloiv  thee,  whither- 
soever thou  goest.  Christ  said  in  reply,  Foxes  have  holes, 
and  birds  of  the  air  have  nests  ;  hut  the  Son  of  Man  hath 
not  ivhere  to  lay  his  head.  In  this  reply  to  the  forward, 
eager  man  he  said.  My  kingdom  has  nothing  of  this 
world  to  offer.  If  you  enter,  you  share  with  the 
Master  poverty,  reproach,  toil,  and  conflict.  There  is 
a  good,  but  it  is  invisible  ;  reached,  possessed,  by  faith, 
remote  and  reversionary.  When  the  seemingly  earnest 
applicant  saw  this,  very  likely  he  hesitated  and  drew 
back. 

When,  to  the  request,  filial  affection  and  respect 
would  dictate,  Let  me  first  go  and  bury  my  father,  then 
I  will  follow  thee,  came  the  answer  from  Jesus,  Let  the 
dead  bury  their  dead  ;  cut  clear  of  all  else,  and  enter  on 
your  work  now,  —  it  was  a  vastly  severe  testing  of  the 
strength  and  the  purpose  within  ;  too  severe  for  multi- 
tudes to  abide  it,  stand  true  to  the  Master,  and  follow 
the  Master,  bearing  such  a  cross.  It  is  this  unaccom- 
modating feature,  as  many  will  regard  it,  in  the  gospel, 
this  almost  uncivil,  certainly  not  very  gentle,  proceeduig, 
this  squareness,  this  downrightness,  this  blunt  rigor  of 
claim  and  condition  at  the  threshold,  which  is  the 
reason  many  go  no  farther  than  the  threshold.  They 
look  in,  but  enter  not.  They  gayly  make  the  begin- 
ning ;  they  miserably  balk  in  the  progress  and  the 
finishing. 

It  is  intimated  in  the  Scripture  account  that  these 
failing  ones  are  wanting  in  certain  qualities  of  char- 
acter, —  even  of  natural  character.  This,  in  part,  the 
reason  of  the  failing,  —  that  they  are  thus  wanting ; 
have  not  the  nerve,  the  soul,  for  the  conflict  and  the 
work.      Hence   the  judgment  Jesus   pronounced   re- 


102  THOSE   LOOKING  BACK 

specting  them  :  They  are  not  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  Crod. 
The  kingdom  of  God,  it  is  here  on  the  earth,  it  is 
also  there  in  heaven.  On  earth  it  is  a  place  of  labor 
and  conflict ;  the  good,  the  pure,  the  right,  contend- 
ing with  the  evil,  the  base,  the  wrong.  In  heaven 
succeed  the  reward  and  the  rest.  Such  the  place 
and  state,  the  kingdom  of  God.  All  those  desig- 
nated in  the  text,  —  the  hesitating,  the  faltering,  be- 
ginning and  not  going  on,  entering  and  not  going 
through,  —  all  alike,  are  pronounced  not  fit  for  the 
kingdom  of  God.  And  why  are  such  not  fit  ?  They 
are  not  fit,  because  they  are  in  heart,  in  spiritual  char- 
acter, unsound,  not  converted.  Their  entering  on  a 
religious  life,  and  then  quitting  it,  turning  away  from 
it,  proves  in  their  case  superficialness,  utter  unsound- 
ness. The  apostasy  is  ever  from  the  seeming,  never 
from  the  reality,  of  principle  and  holiness.  The  falter- 
ing and  falling  off  is  never  by  feet  truly  planted  on  the 
rock.  The  falling  savors  of  sand,  not  of  rock.  Then 
this  vacillating  quality  of  character  stands  in  the  way 
of  one's  getting  inside, — into  the  fortress  and  the  king- 
dom. In  one  sense,  it  is  a  reason  why  he  is  not  con- 
verted. Not  that  it  is  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him 
that  runneth,  but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy.  Still 
we  must  believe  that  the  willing  is  something.  Indeed, 
man's  willing  and  God's  purpose  of  mercy  are  evident 
counterparts,  one  over  against  and  answering  to  the 
other.  The  resolved  willing  of  the  creature  becomes  a 
sign  of  the  gracious  purpose  of  the  Creator.  Whilst 
the  resolved  willing  is  thus  effectual,  and,  through 
grace,  brings  the  contesting  soul  onward  in  the  path 
of  salvation,  it  is  also  and  equally  evident  that  failure 
accrues  from  the  want  of  this  positive  and  decided 


NOT   FIT   FOR  THE   KINGDOM.  103 

attribute.  So  wanting  are  some  in  this  regard,  that  it 
ahuost  amounts  to  an  incapacity  to  attain  and  main- 
tain a  Christian  footing ;  hardly  long  enough  of  one 
mind  for  the  grace  of  God  to  take  possession.  Here  it 
is  an  unfitness  to  enter  ;  not  enough  of  manly  strength 
to  enter,  making  probable  an  unfitness  for  the  work 
they  will  meet  after  they  have  entered.  When  the 
Saviour  said  to  that  man,  in  two  words.  Follow  me,  and 
the  person  with  all  his  manly  nature  rose  right  up 
and  followed  Christ,  he  thereby  showed  himself  to  be 
the  man  for  the  service  and  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ. 
So  was  it  with  Andrew,  Peter,  Matthew,  and  all  those 
drastic  men  who  laid  the  foundation  stones  and  tim- 
bers of  this  kingdom. 

Again,  we  say  of  the  cases  and  characters  before  us, 
Not  fit,  because  there  is  betrayed  in  their  action  a  want 
of  enlarged  comprehension,  lack  of  the  ability  and  dis- 
position to  take  in  the  distant  and  the  future,  and  make 
the  broad  and  right  estimate  of,  and  to  live  and  make 
sacrifices  for  them.  It  is  an  element  of  faith  that  does 
this  ;  that  which  believes  and  feels  beyond  what  it  can 
see ;  a  sort  of  natural  quality  with  some ;  but,  in  its 
truest  and  most  potent  possession,  religious,  and  the 
gift  of  God.  Upon  that  is  based  all  this  strength,  man- 
liness, steadfastness,  and  persistence  against  perils  and 
discouragements ;  a  quality  such  as  the  world  has  some- 
times seen,  and  admired  wherever  seen.  This  it  was 
in  the  great  Navigator  which  kept  his  soul  and  the  prow 
of  his  boat  pointed  to  the  land  he  felt  assured  was 
ahead  ;  more  steadily  pointed  that  way  than  the  needle 
to  the  pole.  Whatever  the  enterprise  or  the  cause,  no 
person  has  ever  yet  done  worthily,  who  has  not  caught 
a  truth  and  an  energy  from  the  unseen,  from  the  far- 


104  THOSE   LOOKING  BACK 

away  and  the  far-before.  If  the  mind,  the  soul,  the 
affections,  are  shut  in  and  held  right  here,  in  this 
little  locality,  —  its  first  and  chief  thought  being  of  the 
treasures  here,  —  the  comforts  of  the  present,  the  home, 
the  burial,  the  farewell ;  there  is  necessarily  a  blight- 
ing or  obliterating  of  the  forward,  the  resolute,  tlie 
accomplishing  qualities.  Every  thing  is  contracted, 
withered,  impoverished,  by  this  lowness  and  limitation  of 
view.  Whereas  the  enlarging,  the  comprehension,  help 
make  the  man  fit  —  elevate  and  nerve  him  for  the  work 
he  is  called  to.  In  this  case,  it  is  the  faith  and  scope 
of  his  soul,  the  felt  powers  of  the  world  to  come,  that 
bring  him  out ;  make  willing,  loving  to  devote  strength, 
life,  all,  to  the  enterprise  and  the  kingdom. 

It  comes  to  this,  that  there  are  certain  causes,  which, 
if  men  once  put  their  hands  to,  they  must  go  forward 
and  go  through.  The  principles,  the  interests,  involved, 
are  so  immense,  so  illimitable  in  their  reach,  that  it  is 
worth  all  the  cost  and  sacrifice ;  and  craven  are  we, 
traitorous  to  God  and  his  creation,  if  we  do  not  go 
through.  The  fact  of  holding  on  is  the  soul's  testi- 
mony and  declared  judgment  of  the  untold  greatness 
of  the  stake.  Our  fathers  in  the  Revolution  consti- 
tuted such  a  case  :  they  put  their  hands  to  that  plough  ; 
thereafter  there  was  to  them  as  men  but  one  possible 
course,  —  plough  it  through.  They  did  ;  and  the  fact 
that  they  did,  showed  the  style  and  the  quality  of  the 
men. 

A  like  case  has  come  upon  us  at  the  present  time, 
to  finish  the  work  not  then  wholly  finished ;  though 
they  went  through  with  what  they  undertook.  The 
Divine  Providence  has  been  calling  for  the  doing  of  the 
rest ;  and  was  there  ever  such  a  work  committed  to 


NOT  FIT  FOR  THE   KINGDOM.  105 

the  finite  before,  bearing  such  costs  of  treasure  and  of 
blood  ?  It  was  laid  upon  the  men  of  the  present. 
They  had  no  election  other  than  to  put  their  hand  to 
the  plough ;  and,  having  so  put,  but  one  thing  remained, 
to  press  to  the  victorious  end,  no  matter  what  is  to  be 
endured,  before  the  great  work  is  finally  and  unalter- 
ably done.  Otherwise  it  will  be  pronounced  not  fit  for 
the  realm  we  are  reaching  toward.  Tliis  lost  through 
our  recreancy,  the  doom  of  a  witnessing  universe  is 
upon  us  as  not  fit.  The  failure  comes  in  this  case  from 
a  want  of  comprehensiveness,  —  not  getting  hold  of  the 
vastness,  the  immensity,  of  principles  and  interests  at 
issue. 

I  will  add,  in  this  connection,  that  there  is  a  signifi- 
cance in  the  primal  meaning  of  the  word,  rendered  in 
the  text  not  fit.  That  word  denotes  yiot  well  put.  Look- 
ing back  is  not  well  put  for  the  kingdom :  face  forward, 
unblenchingly  on,  is  well  put.  That  means,  beginning 
with  a  soul  set  to  finish  ;  a  soul  set,  God  helping, — and 
God  will  help  such  a  soul,  —  and  fixed  to  finish.  That 
is  what  is  meant  by  well  put :  all  in  the  man  put  in 
the  line  and  expectation  of  the  conquest  and  the  king- 
dom. Well  put,  —  the  phrase  reminds  us  of  that  noble 
Christian  hero  in  our  late  war,  by  dint  of  merit  passing 
from  a  humble  private  to  the  rank  of  general,  —  one  of 
our  ablest  and  bravest,  —  who,  when  mortally  smitten 
in  his  twentieth  battle,  and  just  ready  to  die,  requested 
the  attendant  to  turn  him  once  more,  that  his  might  be 
the  privilege  to  die  with  his  face  to  the  enemy.  That 
was  the  heroic  spirit,  well  put,  fit  for  the  conquest ; 
and  such  can  hardly  fail  to  attain,  though  they  die  to 
attain.  I  use  these  facts  to  illustrate  Christian  truth 
and  duty :  how  striking  and  inspiriting  are  the  analo- 
gies. 


106  THOSE   LOOKING   BACK 

We  see  in  them  that  one  of  the  conditions  of  getting 
honorably  through,  after  undertaking,  is,  that  we  be- 
lieve and  understand,  when  we  begin,  that  the  work  is 
great  and  most  arduous,  the  warfare  perilous,  the 
enemy  not  to  be  despised. 

Then,  again,  in  connection  with  a  clear  comprehen- 
sion of  all  that  is  formidable  in  our  prospect,  it  is 
important  that  we  be  believers  and  enactors  of  the  doc- 
trine of  perseverance.  The  importance  of  this  lies  here, 
that  the  doctrine,  if  believed  and  brought  into  the  soul, 
is  far  more  likely  to  secure  the  perseverance  than  the 
opposite  doctrine.  Entering  on  the  work,  understand- 
ing its  vastness,  resolved  in  God  to  do  it,  then,  God 
helping,  do  it ;  that  is  the  doctrine  in  God's  Book  ;  that 
the  fact  in  man's  experience  which  contributes  and 
leads  to  the  success.  Once  committed,,  hand  on  the 
plough,  God  calling  to  the  service, —  ever  after  no  such 
thing  as  fail :  no  such  word  in  our  vocabulary.  Such 
a  thought  we  may  not  think,  for  our  eternal  all  is 
at  stake.  That  is  the  view  which  will  help  a  man  to 
the  end,  and  fetch  him  a  victor  there ;  whereas,  the 
opposite  sentiment  or  doctrine  —  that  of  failure,  or  fail- 
ing from  grace  —  wakes  the  expectation  of  it,  operates 
as  a  premium  on  feebleness  and  imbecility,  and  brings 
to  pass  the  soul's  greatest  peril  and  shame. 

It  follows,  from  the  preceding,  that  everybody  is  not 
fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God,  because  every  thing  people 
imagine  does  not  constitute  a  fitness.  The  profession, 
the  form,  the  ceremony,  does  not,  the  giving  heed  to  the 
pastimes  of  religion,  the  matutinal  shows,  or  the  twi- 
light entertainments  of  song  and  prayer.  Nor  does  the 
saying,  "  Lord,  I  will  follow  thee,"  or  the  hanging  out 
some  label  or  sign  of  being  a  Christian.    Not  these,— 


NOT   FIT   FOR  THE   KINGDOM.  107 

none  of  these.  It  is  only  character  that  makes  fit, — 
the  work  and  state  within,  the  faith  and  some  fight  in 
the  soul,  the  decision  that  presses  ahead  against  the 
rudest  resistance  of  the  enemy.  Such  things  are  the 
proof  of  being  Christians ;  the  things  Christ  acknowl- 
edged when  on  the  earth. 

We  have,  then,  a  test  to  apply  to  those  who  present 
themselves  at  the  door  of  this  kingdom,  and  ask  to  be 
admitted.  It  is  simply  the  requisition  put  upon  those 
three  proposing  disciples.  The  test  then  is  the  test 
now.     It  can  be  no  less  at  any  time. 

Many  before  me  have  had  some  experience  under 
this  claim.  How  have  you  answered  to  it  ?  We  may 
all  respond.  How  have  we  answered  to  it?  Are  we 
satisfied,  steadfast,  true,  and  without  any  regret  that 
we  have  undertaken  to  follow  such  a  Master,  without 
any  glance  back  to  the  pleasures  that  have  been  left  ? 
Or  has  there  been  some  lurking  wish  that  we  might 
have  more  liberty  with  the  world  that  is,  and  still  keep 
hold,  in  faith  and  hope,  of  the  better  world  to  come  ? 
The  evidence  that  we  are  Christians,  under  this  prac- 
tical test  of  Christ,  is,  that  we  are  following,  getting 
forward,  against  all  decoys  back,  or  threats  to  drive 
back.  Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee,  nearer  to  thee,  even 
tliough  it  be  a  cross  or  flame  that  brings  me  on.  That 
is  the  spirit  that  will  make  trials  and  adversities  set 
the  soul  ahead,  nearer  to  Jesus. 

It  is  plainly  suggested  in  our  text,  that  radical  de- 
fects in  the  character  are  first  indicated  by  little  things. 
An  apostasy  does  not  leap  forth  at  once :  no  one,  by  an 
instant  move,  wheels  round  and  goes  back.  He  first 
thinks  of  the  good  that  lies  behind ;  then  the  heart 
lusts ;  then  the  eye  looks ;  then  the  feet  turn  ;  then  the 


108  THOSE  LOOKING   BACK 

man  is  an  apostate.  What  we  are  concerned  to  know 
is,  whether  there  be  the  slenderest  inception  of  this  in 
the  case  of  any  of  as.  If  there  is,  deal  with  it  so  as 
effectually  to  arrest  it,  or  those  terrible  letters  begin  to 
form,  and  ere  long  will  blaze  against  you,  —  Not  fit  for 
the  kingdom  of  God.  There  is  an  awful  efficacy  and 
doom  of  evil  wherever  those  reprobating  words  do  light. 
Such  cast  out  as  worthless,  —  mere  refuse  material,  — 
not  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God ;  not  the  stuff  to  make 
a  Christian  of,  not  he ;  therefore  no  likelihood  that  he 
will  ever  be  made  a  Christian.  He  has  been  up  to  the 
place,  has  been  put  to  the  test ;  and  he  did  not  stand 
it,  —  not  the  stuff,  not  he. 

The  failure  or  unfitness  may  be,  in  part,  as  before 
intimated,  in  natural  or  material  qualities.  It  is  also, 
and  more  especially,  in  moral  qualities  ;  unsuitable  in 
spirit,  in  temper,  —  impure,  unholy.  This  quality  we 
receive  from  Christ,  ever  and  bountifully  from  him, 
whenever  we  ask  it  of  him  and  open  our  souls  to  re- 
ceive it.  And  now  is  the  time,  the  gracious  opportu- 
nity ;  a  day  of  privilege,  that  will  find  its  close ;  soon, 
suddenly,  may  it  reach  that  close.  Then  those  who 
have  neglected  it,  and  yet  are  flush  with  fancied  hopes, 
will  come,  as  this  Book  says  they  will  come,  to  another 
door,  the  door  opening  into  that  realm  above  of  life  and 
joy  ;  and  then  and  there,  as  they  cry,  Lord,  open  unto  us, 
those  debarring  words  will  meet  them.  Depart:  I  never 
knew  you.  Then  and  there  shall  they  be  pronounced 
not  fit  for  the  service  or  the  place.  Only  the  pure,  the 
holy,  are  here.  Not  fit.  Only  the  loving,  the  loyal,  are 
here,  — hearts  all  joined  and  knit  as  one.  Not  fit.  It 
is  a  peculiar  throng,  entranced,  exalted,  crowned,  all ; 
and  unto  him  that  hath  loved  us  and  washed  us  in  his 


NOT   FIT   FOR  THE   KINGDOM.  109 

otvn  blood,  they  sing  the  song  which  none  else  can  learn. 
Not  fit.  These  brief  and  fearful  words,  shall  they  meet 
you  there  ?  Say,  No :  God  helping,  no.  Rise  up  to- 
day, in  the  utmost  power  of  your  soul's  resolve ;  or, 
what  is  far  better,  in  the  felt  extremity  of  your  own 
weakness,  in  the  girding  grace  and  strength  of  Christ, 
rise  up  and  get  ready.  Understanding  what  you  say, 
putting  your  mind  into  it,  your  heart  into  it,  your  com- 
pacted will  into  it,  say  with  deepest  humility,  in  faith 
and  holy  trust  say,  Lord,  I  will  follow  thee  ivkiiherso- 
ever  thou  goest.  Follow  liim,  and  through  all  be  his. 
Then  shall  that  other  word  meet  you  at  the  gate, — Fit, 
—  your  blessed  passport  there.  The  King  shall  say  it ; 
and  all  that  countless  throng  shall  repeat  it,  —  Fit  for 
the  kingdom.  Victor,  thy  struggles  are  ended.  Soul, 
heaven  is  before  thee :  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord. 


X. 

THE   GIVER;   OR,   THE   TWO  MITES. 

And  Jesus  sat  over  against  the  treasury,  and  beheld  how  the 
people  cast  money  into  the  treasury :  and  many  that  were 
rich  cast  in  much.  And  there  came  a  certain  poor  widoiv, 
and  she  threw  in  two  mites,  which  make  a  farthing.  And 
he  called  unto  him  his  disciples,  and  saith  unto  them,  Verily 
I  say  unto  you,  That  this  poor  widow  hath  cast  more  in 
than  all  they  which  have  cast  into  the  treasury:  for  all 
they  did  cast  in  of  their  abundance  ;  but  she  of  her  want  did 
cast  in  all  that  she  had,  even  all  her  living.  —  Mark  xii. 
41-44. 

"  "XT  7'HAT  more  tender,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  in  one 
'  '  of  his  most  remarkable  forensic  eiforts,  "  what 
more  tender,  more  solemnly  affecting,  more  profoundly 
pathetic,  than  this  charity,  —  this  offering  to  God,  of  a 
farthing?  We  know  nothing  of  her  name,  her  family, 
or  her  tribe  ;  we  only  know  that  she  was  a  poor  woman 
and  a  widow,  of  whom  there  is  nothing  left  upon  rec- 
ord but  this  sublimely  simple  story,  that  when  the 
rich  came  to  cast  their  proud  offerings  into  the  treasury, 
this  poor  woman  came  also,  and  cast  in  her  two  mites, 
which  make  a  farthing." 

Tlie  scene  of  this  was  the  temple.  In  certain  de- 
partments, or  courts,  it  appears,  there  were  placed 
coffers,  or  receptacles,  for  the  gifts  of  the  people  of 


THE   GIVER  ;    OR,    THE    TWO    MITES.  Ill 

moneys  to  be  devoted  to  religious  uses.  Into  these 
receptacles  the  gifts  were  continually  thrown,  as  those 
came  in  who  were  prepared  to  make  their  offerings, 
and  desirous  of  making  them.  With  the  others  came 
Miis  poor  widow.  Among  the  qualities  of  character, 
indicated  in  the  account  given  of  her,  there  very 
obviously  and  delightfully  appears, — 

1.  Humility.  It  is  said  that  many  that  were  rich 
cast  in  much.  It  seems  that  the  offerings  of  all  were 
in  full  view  ;  how  much  they  gave,  the  munificent  and 
the  mean,  alike  in  view.  Now  what  a  force  was  here, 
considering  what  human  nature  is,  to  deter,  to  keep 
back,  the  very  poor  and  meagre  offerings,  so  eclipsed 
would  they  be  by  those  princely  ones :  how  hard  to 
confess  in  this  comparison  the  deep  poverty,  perhaps 
incur  the  imputation  of  covetousness,  bringing  so  con- 
temptible a  sum,  —  two  mites,  which  make  a  farthing. 
But  this  poor  widow,  conscious  of  her  iutegrity,  not 
caring  for  the  imputations  or  the  shame  of  the  com- 
parisons, comes  along,  very  likely  in  the  track  of  some 
one  or  more  who  cast  in  their  thousands,  and  hero- 
ically puts  in  her  two  mites.  I  think  I  see  an  admi- 
rable humility  in  this  proceeding.    We  certainly  see,  — 

2.  An  unquestioned  benevolence  in  it ;  a  height  of 
benevolence  not  often  attained  in  this  world.  The  be- 
nevolence is  not  brought  out  in  tlie  statement  that  she 
gave  two  mites ;  but  in  this,  that  she  of  her  want  did  cast 
in  all  that  she  had,  even  all  her  living.  Observe  here 
what  significance  there  is  in  the  circumstance  that  she 
gave  two  mites,  two  pieces.  Suppose  the  fact  had 
been,  and  the  narrative  had  read,  she  gave  a  farthing. 
True,  it  was  all  she  had,  but  there  was  no  piece  below 
this,  and  she  felt  that  she  must  give  something.     And 


112  THE   GIVER  ;    OR,   THE   TWO   MITES. 

SO  by  a  species  of  compulsion  she  gave  her  all,  the 
farthing.  But  no,  there  were  two  pieces.  She  might 
have  given,  and  gratified  her  benevolence  by  giving, 
one-half  her  living  ;  and  would  not  that  have  been 
noble  ?  —  certainly  prudent  to  have  kept  half.  But  for 
prudence  she  had  faith.  She  trusted  God,  and  gave 
the  wliolc.  I  wish  you  to  note  here  this  instructive  cir- 
cumstance in  her  case,  —  I  might  say,  most  reproving 
to  many.  I  refer  to  this,  that  the  possession  of  small 
change  did  not  diminish  this  woman's  contribution ; 
that  the  fact  of  her  having  two  bits  presented  no  temp- 
tation to  cut  down  her  offering  one-half.  How  shame- 
fully different  is  it,  not  unfrequently.  When  the 
Lord's  treasury-box  is  passed  around,  with  what  in- 
tensely elective  affinity,  sometimes,  do  the  niggardly 
fingers,  in  their  parsimonious  fumbling,  strike  upon 
the  very  small  bits,  careful  to  take  but  one ;  often  de- 
scending to  the  baser  coin,  and  so  lumbering  the  trea- 
sury with  it  that  the  Lord  of  the  treasury  might 
express  his  grief  and  chagrin  in  the  phrase  of  one  of 
his  own  servants,  —  Alexander  the  copper-smith  did 
me  much  evil.  And  then,  not  unfrequently,  the 
memory  of  this  blessed  woman  is  insulted  by  calling 
these  stinted  gifts,  these  infinitesimal  atoms  broken 
off  from  respectable  estates,  calling  these  the  widow's 
mite.  No,  no :  the  widow's  mite  was  a  mountain  of 
benevolence,  a  very  Andes  in  the  comparison,  whose 
heart  and  ribs  and  head  of  gold  reach  to  the  heavens, 
so  high  that  all  the  world  has  seen  it,  and  will  to 
the  end  of  the  world. 

Let  us  now  pass,  a  moment,  from  her  and  her  offer- 
ing, to  another  character  in  the  scene,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.     He  was  there  an  interested  and  discriminat- 


THE  GIVER  ;  OR,  THE  TWO  MITES.       113 

ing  spectator.  He  beheld  how  the  people  cast  into  the 
treasury.  He  separated  the  gifts,  marked  the  amount 
in  each  case,  and  especially  marked  the  spirit.  And 
may  we  not  suppose  he  does  the  same  now,  in  his 
higher  abode  ?  How  grateful  the  thought,  that  our 
Lord  is  mindful  even  of  our  labor  and  sacrifice  for  his 
cause.  How  stimulating  the  motive  lying  in  the  fact 
that  he  does  see,  and  loves  to  see,  every  sincere  heart- 
gift  made  to  help  on  his  kingdom.  And  how  he 
prizes  a  little,  into  which  enters  a  great  amount  of 
heart.  If  it  is  to  the  extent  of  the  ability,  and  goes 
with  true  self-denial,  yet  most  freely  goes,  no  matter 
how  small  it  is  in  comparison  of  others,  his  eye  not 
only  follows  it  with  admiration,  his  lips  lavish  upon  it 
words  of  strange  commendation.  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  that  this  poor  widow  hath  cast  more  in,  than  all 
they  which  have  cast  into  the  treasury.  These  words 
seem  to  be  extravagant.  Are  they  so  ?  Or  are  they 
capable  of  an  unquestioned  justification  ?  Are  they 
not  pregnantly  true,  and  so  come  to  our  souls  with 
the  producing  force  of  truth  ? 

Let  me  say,  first,  they  are  obviously  true  in  this 
sense  ;  namely,  that  this  poor  widow  gave  more  in  pro- 
portion to  what  she  had  to  give  from,  than  any  or  all 
of  them.  For  they  did  cast  in  of  their  abundance, 
she  of  her  penury.  They  had  left  an  abundance,  prob- 
ably no  perceptible  diminution  made  by  what  they 
gave.  It  was  not  diminution  in  her  case.  Her  great 
and  full  heart  swept  her  whole  living  into  the  treasury. 
On  that  footing  the  case  is  made  out  undeniably  in  her 
favor ;  she  gave  more  than  they  all. 

But,  again,  there  is  another  light  in  which  her 
ofifering  may   be  put,  and  so  the  case  made  out  iu 

8 


114  THE   GIVER  ;    OR,    THE   TWO    MITES. 

her  favor.  I  mean  in  the  light  of  the  immortality 
of  her  offering,  making  up  in  reach  and  continuity 
what  it  lacked  in  magnitude  at  the  time.  And  it 
was  the  embalming  of  the  Lord's  commendation 
wliich  gave  it  this  perpetual  and  ubiquitous  living ; 
living  as  long  as  the  moon  shall  measure  time ;  living 
and  acting  wherever  gospel  truth  has  traversed  and 
Christian  hearts  are  found  to  beat ;  living  an  example 
of  power  which  can  hardly  be  contemplated  and  not  be 
felt, —  an  example  which  has  unlocked  coffers  which 
otherwise  would  have  remained  locked,  and  made 
wider  than  otherwise  would  have  been,  the  openings 
for  the  disbursements  of  charity,  carrying  deeper  and 
farther  the  blessing  streams.  Could  we  write  in  our 
figures  the  amount  of  good,  as  God  embraces  it  in  the 
sweep  of  his  knowledge,  the  sum  total  of  generous 
giving  and  doing,  produced  by  the  poor  widow's  offer- 
ing as  the  moving  cause,  this  total  sum  would  doubt- 
less exceed,  not  only  all  that  all  they,  who  cast  into 
the  treasury  with  her,  gave,  —  I  know  not  but  it  would 
exceed  all  that  any  one  generation  of  givers  have  as 
yet  given  into  the  treasury  of  benevolence.  This  is 
the  view  the  great  lawyer  took  in  the  celebrated 
argument  against  an  infidel  charity,  to  which  I  referred 
in  the  beginning.  This  example,  so  vital  and  eternal, 
read,  told,  gone  forth  everywhere,  sinking  deep  into 
millions  and  millions  of  hearts,  this  has  done  more 
good  than  a  thousand  or  a  myriad  marble  palaces 
could  do.  We  should  not  doubt  this,  if  we  could  trace 
in  their  inception  and  history,  side  by  side,  the  two 
mites  of  this  Christian  woman,  and  the  paraded  mill- 
ions of  the  infidel  Girard ;  the  gift  of  the  one  drawing 
to  itself  the  warm  admiration,  and  the  loving  sym- 


THE  giver;  or,  the  two  mites.  115 

pathies  of  Jesus :  the  stately  charity  of  the  other,  say- 
ing to  Him  whose  name  is  love  and  whose  office  it  is 
to  bind  up  and  bless  and  save,  virtually  saying,  Off, 
away  from  these  premises  ;  thy  spirit  nor  teaching  nor 
touch  are  wanted  here.  We  do  not  know  but  millions 
such  as  these  may  be  overruled  for  good ;  indeed,  they 
have  been  in  this  very  case,  showing  how  wonderful  in 
working  is  He  on  the  throne :  still  who  does  not  say, 
for  greatness,  and  boundless  beneficence  of  results, 
give  me,  rather,  the  poor  widow's  two  mites  ? 

But  there  is  a  presentness  to  these  words  somewhat 
remarkable.  May  we  not  suppose  that  the  Saviour 
meant  to  affirm  an  equal,  yea,  a  greater,  present  effi- 
cacy residing  in  the  widow's  offering,  than  in  all  the 
others  ?  I  conceive  that  it  is  so,  and  that  the  principle 
may  be  this,  that  just  in  proportion  to  the  heart's 
vitality,  which  is  the  heart's  sacrificing  love,  entering 
and  pervading  the  gift,  just  in  that  proportion  will  the 
Divine  efficiency  and  the  majesty  of  the  Divine  working 
go  forth  with  it.  He  who  sat  over  against  the  treasiiry, 
and  whose  eye  penetrated  to  the  spirit,  saw,  doubtless, 
more  of  the  heart's  vitality,  the  heart's  sacrificing  love, 
gathering  about  and  entering  into  the  widow's  farthing, 
than  there  was  in  connection  with  all  the  rest.  On 
this  ground  may  it  not  have  been,  that  the  Lord  pro- 
nounced her  gift  to  be  greater  than  all  the  rest?  —  on 
this  ground  that  there  was  more  of  this  vital  element, 
a  greater  depth  and  volume  of  charity,  in  the  farthing 
than  in  the  proud  pile  of  thousands  of  pounds  ? 

On  the  same  ground  or  principle,  it  would  accom- 
plish more  :  having  in  it  more  of  the  heart's  vitality,  it 
would  therefore  carry  with  it  more  of  God's  power 
than   their  whole  put  together;   for  assuredly,  it  is 


116  THE  giver;  or,  the  two  mites. 

God's  prerogative  to  work  and  to  save  by  few  or  by 
many,  by  little  or  by  much.  And  his  eye  follows  that 
mite  so  charged,  saturated  with  heart,  wherever  it 
may  go  ;  follows  it  and  the  page  of  gospel-truth  pur- 
chased thereby ;  the  Spirit  and  the  Power  divine  join 
in  with  that  page,  and  travel  with  it  over  the  line  into 
some  realm  of  utter  gloom  and  satanic  oppression, — 
and  the  Spirit  and  the  Power  use  that  humble  page  of 
gospel,  the  purchase  of  that  mite,  as  the  rod  of  a  great 
revolution,  the  spring  of  a  glorious  renovation,  and 
the  instrument  of  eternal  redemption  to  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  souls.  I  cannot  deem  it  a  mere  fancy, 
that  there  is  on  the  part  of  God  this  singling  and 
honoring  and  empowering  of  specific  gifts  thrown  into 
his  treasury :  and  this  is  one  way  in  which  we  make 
it  out,  that  the  farthing,  as  given,  was  more  for  all  the 
purposes  of  charity  than  the  pounds  in  uncounted 
thousands  by  its  side. 

This,  then,  my  brethren,  is  the  sort  of  distinguishing 
and  labelling  we  would  do  well  to  get  on  the  money 
we  devote  to  the  Lord.  Of  very  little  importance  is  it 
that  we  designate  it  and  have  it  marked,  —  this  parcel 
for  India  and  that  for  Africa :  but  oh,  how  important 
that  we  so  give  our  gifts  that  the  blessed  Master,  who 
knows  us  altogether,  himself  shall  distinguish  and  label 
tliis  offering,  as  charged  to  the  full  with  heart-vitality, 
and  that,  as  saturated  all  through  with  the  heart's 
sacrificing  love. 

I  come  now  to  indicate,  in  two  or  three  partic- 
ulars, the  practical  bearing  which  this  case  should 
have  upon  us ;  or  wherein  we  may  be  instructed  and 
incited  by  it  in  our  privilege  of  giving  to  the  Master's 
cause. 


THE  giver;  or,  the  two  mites.  117 

1.  And,  first,  we  are  reminded  of  the  great  responsi- 
bility which  this  idea  or  doctrine  of  lieart-vitality  lays 
upon  us;  the  fact  being,  that  this  —  the  heart-quality 
—  possessed,  no  slenderness  of  gift  sliall  fail  of  good  ; 
this  wanting,  no  greatness  of  gift  will  suffice.  If,  now, 
it  be  so,  then  let  us  consider  it,  and  see  that  the  heart 
is  alive,  is  interested,  and  train  our  hearts  to  the  right 
aftection,  while  we  train  our  hands  to  the  generous 
bestowment. 

2.  But,  secondly,  we  are  further  instructed  by  the 
case,  that  quantity,  the  amount  of  the  gift,  taken  in 
connection  with  the  ability  of  the  giver,  is  intimately 
associated  with  the  heart-quality,  is  even  indispensable 
to  the  producing  of  it ;  so  that  you  cannot  have  this 
quality  of  power  in  the  gift,  unless  you  conform  to 
certain  conditions  in  respect  to  quantity,  or  to  the 
amount  given.  This  appears  very  readily.  The  vital- 
izing power  of  the  gift  is  the  love  that  prompted  it ; 
and  so  intense  that  love  for  the  object,  we  will  suppose, 
that  it  prompts  to  the  giving  of  all  that  could  be.  But 
change  the  giver  and  keep  the  gift  the  same.  The  in- 
dividual hands  out  two  mites  from  his  abundance. 
Did  it  cost  him  any  thing  ?  As  it  left  him,  did  it  go,  as 
sometimes  even  the  farthing  does,  with  a  wrench,  and 
a  pang  of  self-denial,  while  yet  the  feeling  was,  it  must 
go,  because  such  the  love  to  the  Master  and  his  cause. 
How  plain  it  is,  that  if  you  give  a  detached  trifle  from 
your  profusion,  your  gift,  so  failing  in  quantity,  fails 
also  in  quality,  —  misses  the  condition  of  power.  It 
is  nothing  to  you  as  it  went:  it  is  nothing  to  God 
as  it  comes ;  and  nothing  to  the  world  as  it  goes 
forth.  You  make  nothing  of  it,  and  God  makes  noth- 
ing of  it.     But  come  up  m  the  quantity,  to  a  gift  of 


118  THE  giver;  or,  the  two  mites. 

such  a  size,  that,  as  it  goes  from  you,  goes  with  a  sen- 
sation, carries  something  with  it,  showing  your  heart 
to  be  in  and  to  go  with  it,  then  that  offering  will  be 
crowned  by  God's  approval,  and  be  pervaded  by  God's 
efficiency. 

3.  Again,  we  learn  from  this  example,  that  with 
most  of  us,  in  this  matter  of  charity,  the  danger  prob- 
ably does  not  lie  in  the  direction  of  excess.  We  are  very 
little  exposed  to  the  fault  of  giving  too  much  to  Chris- 
tian objects.  If  there  ever  was  an  instance  of  over- 
doing in  charity,  it  was  this  poor  widow,  who  gave  her 
whole  living.  But  she  was  fortunate  in  the  judge  who 
pronounced  upon  her  action.  Had  it  been  somebody 
else,  almost  anybody  else,  she,  doubtless,  would  have 
gone  away  with  the  character  of  one  beside  herself,  not 
competent  to  take  care  of  her  own  affairs,  a  fit  subject 
for  an  overseer.  But  He  who  gave  himself  for  us 
thought  differently  of  her,  who  gave  her  all  to  him. 
It  was  right,  was  noble,  what  she  did.  Shall  we,  then, 
be  likely  to  err  in  that  direction  ?  Possibly  it  would 
be  no  error,  should  we,  some  of  us,  give  our  all.  And 
if  an  error,  this  literal  giving  of  all,  the  peril  in  our 
case,  I  take  it,  is  not  very  imminei^.  It  is  altogether 
in  the  other  direction :  a  selfish  begging  off  from  the 
standard  and  tlie  measure  to  which  duty,  philanthropy, 
religion,  are  ever  summoning  us  ;  and  assigning  rea- 
sons and  pleas  for  a  reduction  of  the  claim.  Suppose 
we  could  bring  these  reasons  and  pleas  into  the  light 
of  this  woman's  spirit  and  example,  I  have  no  doubt 
the  greater  part  of  them  would  be  wholly  incompetent 
and  unworthy.  For  example,  this  plea :  We  have  so 
little  to  give,  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  pass  it  over. 
This  precedent  to-day  certainly  disposes  of  that  excuse ; 


THE    GIVER  ;    OR,    THE    TWO    MITES.  119 

and  all  experience  teaches,  that  those  who  have  but 
little  they  can  give,  are  the  tnily  generous  givers, 
giving  far  more  in  proportion  to  what  they  have.  It  is 
they  who  make  the  sacrifices ;  they,  mainly,  who  feed 
the  swelling  streams  of  beneficence.  It  is  they  espe- 
cially whose  gifts  bring  down  the  Lord's  benediction. 
Then  there  is  that  other  plea,  far  more  common  and 
unworthy ;  namely.  We  cannot  give,  because  we  have 
met  with  losses :  these  persons  not  considering  that 
they  have  something  left,  —  the  fruit  and  preservation 
of  God's  goodness ;  not  considering,  too,  how  appro- 
priate it  would  be,  and  how  beautiful,  how  savory  to 
heaven,  to  make  an  offering  to  the  Lord  out  of  what  his 
goodness  has  spared  to  them.  This  also  is  said :  The 
Lord  has  not  prospered  me  of  late  as  I  hoped  and  ex- 
pected, so  I  mnst  be  excused.  Has  he  not  prospered 
you  before  ?  Yes ;  and  that  pile  you  call  your  own  is 
the  monumental  evidence.  Shall  we  stop  and  reprove 
such  a  plea  as  this  against  generosity  ?  That  silent 
example  before  us  does  it  as  I  cannot.  Your  pile, 
with  that  great  heart  of  hers  behind  it,  would  scatter, 
in  angel  fragments,  the  world  over.  There  is  this  plea 
against  giving  at  the  present,  found  among  those  on 
whom  God  has  sent  prosperity :  I  have  other  uses  for 
my  money,  crowding  it  into  business,  choosing  to  em- 
ploy it  all  in  various  gainful  enterprises  for  the  present. 
I  have  met  cases  like  this,  yea,  this  specific  case,  the 
man  who  said  sometimes  to  God,  I  have  nothing  to 
spare  just  now ;  but  I  will  give  by  hundreds,  perhaps 
thousands,  provided  this  scheme  I  am  prosecuting,  or 
this  adventure  I  have  made,  turns  out  well.  Have  not 
other  schemes  turned  out  well  ?  Yes :  I  know  they 
have :  I  know  how  God  has  blessed  him,  blessed  him 


120  THE    GIVER  ;    OR,    THE   TWO    MITES. 

with  an  estate  burdening  for  its  bigness ;  but  of  this 
not  a  dollar,  not  a  dollar.  If  the  Lord  has  a  mind  so 
to  order  things  in  his  Providence  as  to  make  money 
out  of  that  scheme  I  have  set  a-going,  then  he  may  have 
some.  Need  we  bring  for  correction  and  reproof  such 
a  case  as  this,  to  the  example  and  standard  now  be- 
fore us  ?  If  you  were  to  do  it,  yea,  if  you  were  to 
bring  such  a  person  to  the  spot  where  that  blessed 
woman  was  buried,  to  utter  over  her  ashes  this  plea 
and  purpose,  I  almost  tliink  that  the  dust,  which  has 
been  still  for  nearly  twenty  centuries,  would  be  moved 
and  agitated  by  the  profanation. 

These,  and  such  like  excuses,  are  but  the  grim 
fallacies  of  a  hateful  selfishness ;  all  wrong  tracks, 
which  hurt  our  souls  by  leading  us  off  from  the 
privilege  of  giving.  And  it  is  a  privilege,  —  so  this 
example  teaches  us ;  felt  to  be  a  privilege  when  the 
heart  is  in  it ;  especially  when  we  take  into  account 
the  attribute  of  indestructibleness,  that  may  per- 
tain to  what  we  give ;  made  indestructible  by  this 
heart-quality;  made,  too,  eternally  our  own,  —  never 
to  reach  a  fixed  and  final  dimension  in  the  slide 
and  the  roll  of  that  immortality.  What  you  do  not 
give,  what  you  selfishly  hoard  and  finally  keep,  you 
eternally  alienate.  What  you  thus  leave  behind,  so 
far  as  you  are  concerned,  will  be  as  if  buried  in 
the  grave  that  buries  you.  But  what  you  give,  what 
your  heart  gives,  you  eternally  appropriate  as  your 
own,  link  it  indissolubly  with  your  name,  and  make 
it  the  wealth  and  the  joy  of  your  spirit.  What 
a  treasure,  when  you  shall  meet  it  on  the  other 
shore.  When,  too,  you  shall  meet  the  souls,  your 
sacrifice  and   toil   have   saved,  meet  your  neighbors, 


THE  giver;  or,  the  two  mites.  121 

your  spirit  and  life  have  won ;  meet  your  children, 
your  example  and  prayers  have  led  in  the  same 
beneficent  path ;  what  a  reward,  what  a  blessedness, 
shall  be  yours. 


XI. 

THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE  OF  GIVING. 

Sut  rather  give  alms  of  such  things  as  ye  have  ;  and,  behold, 
all  things  are  clean  unto  you.  —  Luke  xi.  41. 

/""^HRIST,  being  invited,  went  in  to  dine  with  a  Phar- 
^^  isee.  His  host  marvelled  that  he  sat  down  to 
meat  without  first  washing ;  whereupon  the  Lord 
addressed  him  and  other  Pharisees  gathered  with  him  : 
Mow  do  ye  Pharisees  make  clean  the  outside  of  the  cup 
and  platter,  hut  your  inward  part  is  fodl  of  ravening 
and  wickedness.  Did  not  he  that  made  that  which 
is  without,  make  that  ivhich  is  within  also?  Did  not 
he  who  created  the  body,  create  the  soul  also  ?  And 
is  it  not  at  least  equally  proper  and  important  that 
the  inner  part,  the  soul,  partake  of  the  cleansing  and 
the  purity  ? 

Assuming  that  it  is  important,  our  Lord  proceeds 
to  prescribe  a  mode  by  which  the  moral  cleansing,  the 
purity,  may  be  obtained :  But  rather  give  alms  of 
such  things  as  ye  have;  and,  behold,  all  things  are 
clean  unto  you.  These  words  present  somewhat  of 
difficu.lty,  when  we  consider  that  they  were  addressed 
to  a  company  of  Pharisees,  inasmuch  as  the  Pharisees 
were  notoriously  given  to  the  performance  of  these 
outward  acts  of  charity.  They  did  these  outward 
things   and   remained  all  vile  within.      An   outward 


THE  MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  123 

injunction,  in  their  case,  could  hardly  touch  the 
infected  spot. 

Some  suppose  that  the  Saviour  spake  in  an  ironical 
strain.  As  it  regards  your  inward  parts,  all  you  have 
to  do  is  to  go  on  with  your  tithing  system  of  mint  and 
rue,  anise  and  cummin,  and  all  is  clean  to  you ;  yours 
a  perfect  purity  down  to  the  bottom  of  your  hearts. 
This  view  we  cannot  admit.  The  Lord,  we  think, 
spoke  seriously ;  uttered  before  them  a  great  truth, 
not  a  stinging  sarcasm. 

If  we  suppose  that  the  company  of  Pharisees  gath- 
ered on  that  occasion  were,  as  many  were,  exceedingly 
avaricious,  given  to  the  getting  of  gains  by  the  closest 
and  hardest  means,  and  were  also  given  so  to  hold  on 
upon  their  possessions  that  they  could  not,  by  any 
means,  be  brought  to  devote  them  in  charity,  in  any 
worthy  measure,  then  the  Saviour's  words,  which 
struck  at  their  pockets,  would  have  also  a  deeper  aim, 
and  strike  and  enter  their  hearts. 

The  difficulty  abiding  in  these  words  comes  from 
the  fact  that  so  much  efficacy  is  assigned  to  an  out- 
ward performance.  A  great  commentator,  however, 
remarks,  in  mitigation  of  this,  that  it  was  the  manner 
of  the  Saviour  to  command  an  outward  act  as  a  sign 
of  the  disposition,  instead  of  enjoining  the  disposition 
itself.  But  here  the  giving  act  is  put  in  a  somewhat 
different  relation.  It  seems  to  be  put  as  an  ante- 
cedent, a  means  to  an  end  —  cause  to  an  effect.  Giv- 
ing according  to  the  right  standard  and  mode,  is 
promotive  of  the  soul's  discipline  —  its  growth  in 
moral  purity,  holiness. 

I  come  to  this,  then,  as  the  main  topic  of  my  dis- 
course :  Giving  of  what  God  may  have  given  us  as  the 


124  THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF  GIVING. 

means  of  disciplining,  purifying,  elevating,  the  char- 
acter. And  I  might  speak  of  this  discipline  as  both 
retrospective  and  prospective. 

In  regard  to  the  retrospective  action,  a  few  words 
will  suffice  ;  and  these  are  suggested  by  tlie  context. 
It  is  clearly  implied  that  those  addressed  by  the 
Saviour  were  given  to  injustice.  They  had  sought 
extortions  and  wrongful  gains.  In  the  strong  phrase 
of  Christ,  Your  inward  part  is  full  of  ravening  and 
wickedness ;  all  there  greedy,  rapacious,  grasping. 
What  now  follows  as  duty  in  such  a  case  ?  This,  first, 
and  without  delay:  Repent  and  return  from  such 
ways.  From  being  injurious,  rapacious  men,  become 
generous  men  ;  do  justly,  deal  kindly.  Then,  farther, 
the  gospel  enjoins  this  :  Redress  past  wrongs ;  make 
reparation,  restitution,  as  far  as  it  can  be  done.  But 
there  are  cases  where  it  cannot  be  done.  Those  who 
were  the  subjects  of  the  wrong,  and  all  their  represen- 
tatives, have  passed  away,  and  can  no  more  be  found. 
Or  the  wrong  is  so  complex,  so  woven  into  the  web  of 
other  things,  that  it  cannot  be  separated  and  acted 
upon,  so  as  to  be  set  right  directly  and  specifically. 
Where  this  is  the  condition  of  things,  what  then  ? 
Here  let  charity  apply  her  corrective  :  Give  alms  of 
such  things  as  ye  have,  and  all  things  are  clean  unto 
you.  This  disposition  and  distribution  of  the  estate 
got  by  hard  means,  indicate  a  softening  of  the  char- 
acter, even  the  genuineness  of  the  repentance.  At 
once  the  conscience  is  relieved,  and  the  heart  is  made 
better  by  the  course  taken.  The  possessions  which 
the  individual  feels  are  not  his  and  cannot  be  put 
back  whence  they  were  wrongfully  taken,  he  chooses 
to  make  over  to  the  Great  Proprietor  of  all,  by  devot- 


THE   MORAL    DISCIPLINE    OF    GIVING.  125 

ing  them  to  his  service  in  the  welfare  of  his  creatures. 
This  is  the  most  natural  dictate  of  the  heart,  once 
base  and  wrong,  into  which  the  spirit  of  religion  and 
reform  has  entered.  So  was  it  in  the  case  of  Zaccheus. 
Half  of  his  goods  he  gave  to  the  poor  ;  then  tlie  most 
generous  restitution  to  all  whom  he  had  defrauded. 
Who  can  doubt  the  integrity,  the  moral  purity,  of  that 
heart  henceforth  ?  Who  doubt  that  all  the  residue 
of  his  estate  was  clean  unto  him  ?  Who  doubt  that 
from  that  time  he  began  truly  to  possess  and  enjoy 
his  own  ? 

This  is  what  we  may  call  the  backward  correction, 
the  retrospective  discipline  of  benevolence.  It  is  not 
the  giving  of  a  portion  of  ill-gotten  wealth  to  sanctify 
the  rest,  also  and  equally  ill-gotten.  The  principle 
does  not  touch  such  a  case.  Such  a  case  is  only  and 
intensely  atrocious  and  abominable.  This  is  simply  a 
case  both  of  generousness  and  justice  where  the  oppo- 
sites  of  these  had  been. 

We  suggest  whether  this  backward  correction,  this 
retrospective  discipline,  should  not  be  matter  of 
thought  and  consideration  now :  whether  the  Lord's 
cause  and  the  welfare  of  men  would  not  receive  means 
for  their  promotion,  if  there  were  more  inquiring  and 
acting  in  this  direction  ;  the  Lord's  treasury  receiv- 
ing niimberless  fragments,  and  some  huge  masses, 
which  are  now  in  hands  that  would  be  better  o&  with- 
out them.  Let  each  take  the  caudle  of  the  Lord  and 
pass  through  his  own  premises,  —  its  rays  penetrating 
all  the  tortuous  intricacies  of  the  past,  —  and  then  let 
him  do  what  this  revealing  light  shall  teach  him  to  do  ; 
and  he  will  be  likely  to  do  both  generously  and  well ; 
certainly,  be  likely  to  improve  his  standing  for  this 
world  and  the  world  to  come. 


126  THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING." 

But  I  pass  now  to  what  is  more  generally  applicable 
and  practical,  —  the  present  and  prospective  discipline 
of  the  spirit  and  habit  of  giving,  —  giving  as  a  means 
of  spiritual  advance,  of  growth  in  moral  purity  ;  all 
within,  and  all  pertaining  to  one  becoming  clean,  pure. 
The  word  used  here  is  the  same  used  by  Christ  in  that 
other  place  :  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart. 

In  order  to  make  a  man  clean,  pure,  particularly  a 
character  like  that  contemplated  by  Christ  in  the  text, 
certain  evil  and  corrupting  things  are  to  be  removed 
out  of  him.  There  is  to  be  an  ejectment  of  the  cor- 
rupt and  corrupting,  in  the  process  of  attaining  to  the 
clean,  the  pure.  And  one  in  the  category  of  the  cor- 
rupt and  the  corrupting — and  this  a  main  one,  abid- 
ing at  the  fountain,  a  grand  promoter  and  feeder  in 
the  wrong  direction  — is  the  love  of  money.  So  Paul 
names  it,  and  then  attaches  to  it  this  primal  and  ter- 
rible potency,  root  of  all  evil,  —  pronouncing  the  love 
of  money  the  root  of  all  evil.  He  means  that  love  of 
it  which  leads  the  individual  harboring  this  passion  to 
address  himself  to  the  work  of  getting  it  —  accumulat- 
ing, heaping  it  together  ;  this  his  end,  his  great  object 
in  living.  The  Apostle  shows  this  to  be  his  meaning, 
in  the  verse  immediately  preceding,  where  he  uses 
another  phraseology, — They  that  will  he  rich,  —  this  is 
the  working  and  the  end  of  the  passion.  It  resolves 
itself  into  the  will  to  be  rich.  Christ's  word  chosen 
to  describe  it,  yields  the  same  idea  on  being  subjected 
to  an  analysis  ;  his  word  is  covetousness,  which  means, 
etymologically,  have  more,  —  the  desire  to  have  more. 
This,  as  a  very  common  desire  or  passion  in  the  human 
soul,  is  quite  obvious,  showing  itself  on  every  hand  in 
the  schemes  and  the  toils  to  get  more.     Tliis,  as  being 


THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF  GIVING.  127 

an  evil  desire,  most  fruitful  of  mischief,  Paul  portrays 
in  that  flaming  sketch  :  They  that  will  he  rich  fall  into 
temptation  and  a  snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts,  which  drotvn  inen  in  destruction  and  perdition. 
This  passion,  how  sure  to  grow.  If  the  person  dare 
indulge  it,  it  will  grow  and  get  stronger  than  he  ;  in- 
creasing still  in  capacity,  in  greediness,  in  clamor ;  ever 
ringing  the  repetitious  cry,  "  Give,  give."  The  al- 
ready vast  quantity  of  possession  only  adds  vehemence 
to  the  cry,  "  More,  yet  more." 

And  under  its  influence,  what  wrongs,  oppressions, 
crimes,  are  enacted.  And  what  follies,  too.  This 
rage  for  more,  in  its  height  and  intensity,  seems  not 
only  to  blind  the  eyes,  but  strangely  to  abate  the 
brains.  Tlie  Saviour,  in  addressing  one  of  the  sort, 
—  a  representative  man,  doubtless,  to  resort  to  the 
modern  parlance,  —  used  upon  him  the  rather  curt 
term.  Thou  fool.  Sometimes  it  is  one  by  himself, 
"Thou  fool."  Sometimes  —  and  have  we  not  seen 
something  of  the  kind  ?  —  large  masses  are  frenzied 
together.  There  stands  forth  pretty  much  a  whole 
generation  of  fools,  inciting  and  inflaming  one  another, 
expanding  and  spreading  out,  till  there  comes  a  crash 
and  a  conclusion ;  and  the  whole  surface  is  seen 
strewn  with  wrecks  of  character  and  fortune.  There 
follows  a  wholesome  pause  ;  and  one  would  suppose 
that  some  abiding  wisdom  would  be  derived  from  the 
meditations  and  amazements  of  the  compulsory  silence  ; 
certainly,  suppose  that  such  a  course  and  result  never 
could  be  repeated  by  the  same  individuals,  or  their 
immediate  successors.  But  it  is  repeated.  The  same 
ones,  with  the  smart  of  the  old  chastisement  in  their 
skins,  and  the  indented  bruise  of  it  in  their  bones,  will 


128  THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING. 

spring  forth,  eager  to  re-enact  the  same  old  fury.  So 
it  is  that  this  desire  grows  when  allowed,  and  maddens 
men,  and  ruins  characters,  fortunes,  and  souls. 

It  is  plain,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  that  in  the 
course  or  process  of  becoming  clean  and  pure,  this 
evil  desire  must  be  repressed,  and  even  put  out.  We 
come  now  to  hint  the  way  of  doing  it. 

One  way,  a  most  legitimate  and  summary  way,  — 
may  I  not  say  the  way,  no  other  being  wanted  ?  —  is 
this  ;  namely,  by  giving.  Let  a  person  give  alms  of 
such  things  as  he  has,  and  he  will  be  cleansed  of  this 
foul  and  ever-defiling  desire  or  passion.  But,  in  order 
to  the  achievement  of  so  great  an  end,  there  must  be 
conditions  to  the  giving.  It  must  be  principled,  the 
result  and  flow  of  principles,  —  principles  in  this  Holy 
Book  laid  down,  and  by  the  heart  cordially  embraced  ; 
not  impulsive,  giving  as  the  fit  takes,  as  the  sym- 
pathies happen  to  be  stirred.  Based  on  principle,  uni- 
form and  habitual,  it  bears  a  just  relation  to  the  means 
God  has  put  into  our  hands.  This  is  one  of  the  prin- 
ciples or  laws  in  this  matter,  that  the  giving  bear  a 
fixed  and  just  relation  or  proportion  to  the  means 
placed  at  our  disposal.  And  what  is  the  proportion  ? 
or  what  the  principle,  the  rule  to  be  made  ? 

This  principle,  that  every  one  at  stated  times  lay 
by  him  in  store  for  this  purpose,  according  as  God  has 
prospered  him,  would  be  sufficient,  if  we  may  siippose 
in  him  the  thoroughly  Christian  heart.  To  add  this, 
namely,  Let  him  lay  by  for  charity  a  generous  propor- 
tion, is  leaving  it  still  quite  too  indefinite.  To  say  a 
tenth  of  all  that  comes  in,  is  greatly  unequal.  There 
is  neither  justice  nor  benevolence  in  this  as  the  uni- 
versal law  of  giving.     For  the  object  I  have  in  view 


THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF  GIVING.  129 

this  statement  may  be  an  approximate ;  at  least,  may 
stand  preparatory  to  one  more  defmite  ;  namely,  That 
a  person  give  in  measure  and  continuity  sufficient  to 
feel  it.  How  little,  probably,  is  given  in  the  church  of 
God  where  this  is  the  effect.  How  very  few,  probably, 
from  the  measure  they  give,  have  any,  even  the  least, 
sensation  of  inconvenience.  Of  self-denial,  and  real 
sacrifice  from  giving,  I  suppose  the  great  majority  of 
Christian  givers  know  nothing.  In  all  such  cases, 
of  course,  the  entire  personal  benefit  and  discipline 
from  giving,  is  lost.  According  to  the  statement  now 
in  hand,  the  sensation-principle,  the  tithe  system,  or 
the  law  of  tenth,  can  be  no  general  rule  ;  for,  in  very 
many  cases,  the  amount  dictated  by  this  rule  would 
hardly  be  enough  to  throw  any,  even  the  smallest, 
twinges,  into  the  soul's  cleaving  selfishness.  A  tenth 
can  be  given,  and  the  man  never  know,  by  any  appre- 
ciable diminution,  that  he  has  given  any  thing ;  of 
course,  he  can  give  all  that,  and  vastly  more,  without 
beginning  to  feel  it.  What  is  done,  is  but  shelling  off 
some  of  the  loose  outer  scales  of  one  of  these  leviathans 
of  wealth.  The  giving,  to  be  effectual  as  a  discipline, 
must  be  on  a  principle  that  shall  reach  and  restrict  the 
desire  for  getting,  the  intent  to  have  more  ;  for  all 
the  mischief  and  meanness  and  smallness  lie  in  that, 
emanate  from  that.  On  that  it  is,  all  Scripture  pours 
its  intense  and  concentrated  exprobration. 

What  principle  and  measure  of  giving,  then,  will 
administer  to  this  the  repressive,  yea,  the  annihilating 
blow  ?  That  principle  which  says,  "  By  the  grace  of 
God,  I  will  no  more  lay  up  treasure  for  myself; "  the 
person  at  once  and  for  ever  renouncing  the  purpose, 
even   crucifying   the  desire,  to  be   rich.     Then,  that 

9 


130  THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OP   GIVING. 

measure  or  amount  of  giving  which  accrues  from  giv- 
ing the  whole  beyond  a  certain  prescribed  boundary. 
No  accumulation  of  property,  does  this  mean  ?  No : 
not  that.  Accumulation  there  may  be,  and  should  be  ; 
and  the  amount,  the  extent  of  it  is  to  be  settled  in 
the  best  moments  of  Christian  experience,  under  the 
most  decisive  action  of  the  Christian  spirit  and  prin- 
ciple ;  a  definite  amount  fixed  under  the  felt  mean- 
ing of  that  great  vow  of  an  entire  consecration  to  Him. 
It  may  be  thousands,  or  tens  of  thousands,  or  hun- 
dreds of  thousands.  More  or  less,  this  is  its  solemn 
condition  and  quality ;  it  is  a  Christian  amount, 
religiously  retained  as  the  means  to  still  larger  deeds 
of  giving  and  blessing.  Here  we  have  the  man,  all  he 
has,  and  all  his  power  of  getting,  possessing,  diffusing, 
devoted  to  God.  With  him  accumulation  has  this  pur- 
pose,—  it  is  for  God.  It  has  this  limitation,  —  noth- 
ing for  self;  nothing  beyond  a  solemnly  prescribed 
amount ;  no  indefinite  laying  up.  It  is  a  great  step 
for  a  person  to  come  to  this  point ;  costing  a  mighty 
wrestle,  and  the  bloody  sweat  of  the  soul,  probably,  to 
renounce  the  purpose  of  personal  and  selfish  getting, 
the  intent  of  property,  wealth.  It  is  something 
every  one  will  profoundly  feel  in  the  conflict,  the 
actual  doing  it.  Some  have  succeeded  in  the  doing, 
and  have  stood  forth  noble  examples  of  character,  and 
prodigies  in  the  line  of  giving. 

We  are  sure  that,  in  this  repression  and  restriction 
just  indicated,  the  course,  the  action,  is  right.  There 
can  be  no  mistake  at  this  point.  If  this  thirst  for 
money,  this  purpose  and  practice  of  indefinite  getting, 
—  all  one  can,  to  the  end,  —  if  this  is  wrong,  has  on 
its  face  the  indignant  brand  of  Almighty  God,  then  is  it 


THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  131 

right  for  the  disciple,  made  his  duty  by  the  law  and 
spirit  of  his  religion,  to  fix  a  limit,  to  build  a  Christian 
boundary  somewhere  to  this  fiery  and  rampant  lust 
of  humanity, —  desire  of  possession,  to  liave  more. 
This  terrible  lust,  you  cannot  pet  it,  play  with  it, 
and  say,  you  will  keep  it  under.  No  man  can.  No 
man  can  serve  two  masters.  It  will  be  one,  a  single 
allegiance  ;  one  up,  and  the  other  under.  Hence  the 
right,  the  necessity  absolute,  that  there  be  ordained 
the  broad  line  of  demarcation  ;  that  there  be  dug  in 
the  soul  a  deep  and  impassable  trench  between  God 
and  Mammon. 

Let  us  see  now  what  is  accomplished  in  the  way  of 
discipline  —  moral  cleansing  and  iiceping  clean, —  by 
the  action  thus  far.  This  first  at  the  fountain — that 
great,  generic,  base,  cloven-footed,  all-defiling  thing, 
the  selfish,  self-seeking  love  of  money,  will  to  get  it, — 
this,  in  the  case  supposed,  is  pretty  much  wiped 
from  the  heart  by  the  one  broad,  introductory  stroke, 
by  that  soul's  counter  and  higher  purpose,  in  that 
soul's  true  consecration.  This  purpose,  once  en- 
throned in  the  soul,  summarily  subordinates  and 
drives  out  the  whole  litter  of  mean  and  craven  lusts. 
I  knew  one  for  years,  and  loved  him,  and  learned  of 
him,  though  officially  his  teacher,  and  deemed  him  the 
model  giver  of  the  State  of  Maine.  This  was  his  prin- 
ciple,—  his  purpose.  Early  and  with  a  true  Christian 
heart,  he  marked  off  the  sum  to  be  retained,  and  fixed 
the  boundary  ;  and  he  made  over  all  the  rest,  freely 
and  broadly  scattering  it  as  it  came.  The  love  of 
money,  the  desire  of  holding,  he  often  said,  and  more 
often  showed,  that  he  knew  nothing  of  it.  Tlie  faintest 
breath  or  motion  from  this  source  never,  so  far  as  he 


132  THE   MOKAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING. 

was  conscious,  stirred  the  outer  surface  of  his  soul. 
In  the  eight  years  of  my  connection  with  him,  he  gave 
away  probably  twice  the  sum  which  he  reserved  as  the 
capital  of  his  business  and  his  beneficence.  He  is 
now  in  heaven  ;  and  can  we  suppose  that  he  there  re- 
grets that  measure  of  consecration  and  sacrifice  ? 

Another  thing  :  the  central  and  despotic  lust  extinct, 
at  least  brought  under,  then  the  wrong  deeds  so  apt  to 
be  perpetrated  in  the  eagerness  for  gain,  in  the  rage 
for  yet  more,  —  no  such  deeds  will  ever  be  done.  All 
business,  all  labors  for  the  world,  are  sanctified  by  the 
soul's  good  purpose  ;  are  a  part  of  the  man's  Christian- 
ity, the  dictate  of  rectitude  and  benevolence.  Never 
does  such  an  one  overreach  and  craftily  haul  in  huge 
gains  upon  an  already  overgrown  stock  ;  never  take 
advantage  when  he  can,  and  grind  the  necessitous ; 
never  throw  blight  upon  others'  fortunes,  that  he  may 
add  brightness  to  his  own.  Not  a  dollar  comes  into 
his  coffer  dimmed  and  stained  by  his  manner  of  ob- 
taining it.  It  is  all  clean  money.  From  all  the 
temptations  of  business  his  comes  forth  an  unsullied 
and  honorable  name.  The  great  and  kingly  affection 
of  religion,  the  love  of  the  heart,  abides  unquestioned 
in  the  supremacy.  The  other  graces  take  their  pro- 
portion and  place ;  all  the  impulses  of  a  pure  and 
genial  nature  blend  to  produce  a  character  whose  de- 
scriptive is  goodness  ;  its  form,  a  winning,  admirable 
symmetry. 

Of  such  a  character  we  find  that  generousness  is  a 
prominent,  practical  attribute.  Let  us,  then,  pass  on 
and  see  how  naturally  and  infallibly  the  principle  1 
have  indicated  produces  it ;  how  surely  it  grows  and 
benignly   spreads  under  the  soul's   high   purpose   of 


THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  133 

restriction  upon  the  world,  and  the  purpose  to  be 
"  rich  toward  God."  We  have  ah'eady  noted  the  fact, 
that  it  abolishes,  at  once  crushes  out,  the  leading  cause 
of  closeness,  stinginess  in  a  man,  —  this  cause,  the 
desire  of  getting,  the  fascination  of  accumulating.  I 
want  here  the  Greek's  terser  tongue,  and  the  privilege 
to  cry,  pleonexia,  —  have  more.  Henry  Rogers,  in  a 
late  work,  speaks  of  a  man  who  always  gave  a  guinea 
to  each  of  certain  good  objects.  This  person  at  length 
received  a  bequest  which,  he  says,  "  might  be  made 
the  basis  of  a  fine  estate."  He  caught  the  idea  of  in- 
creasing, —  rather,  that  caught  him.  When  asked  the 
next  time  for  his  donation  to  an  object  approved, 
though  more  was  justly  expected,  nothing  was  re- 
ceived ;  not  a  penny  would  he  give :  but  a  reason  he 
gave  ;  and  the  sum  of  it  was,  that  now  he  had  some- 
thing considerable  in  hand,  and  there  was  a  satisfac- 
tion in  making  it  more.  Before,  there  was  no  such 
object  in  keeping,  so  he  freely  gave :  now,  there  was 
an  object,  and  every  little  he  kept,  told  on  tlie  result. 
So  he  kept  it,  and  so  he  would  not  give.  Just  here  we 
have  the  secret  why  men,  prospered  in  the  world,  per- 
petually swelling  their  gains,  are  proportionally  slender 
givers,  often  the  most  grudging  and  stinted  in  their 
giving ;  while  those  who  eat  up  their  income,  and  not 
enough  at  that,  those  who  have  made  up  their  mind  to 
do  good  in  tile  land,  and  trust  God  to  be  fed,  are  among 
the  foremost  in  generous  deeds.  On  the  one  side  it  is 
the  purpose,  the  desire  to  get  and  to  add,  that  dwarfs 
the  soul  so  ignominiously  ;  on  the  other,  it  is  the  pur- 
pose, all  for  God,  which  fashions  the  soul  to  that  large- 
ness and  generous  doing.  And  in  the  latter  case,  not 
only  is  the  measure  made  over  admirable ;  the  manner 


134  THE    MORAL   DISCIPLINE    OF   GIVING. 

of  it,  the  freeness  and  heartiness,  make  it  still  more  so. 
Such  an  one  has  not,  on  every  presentation  of  charity, 
to  wage  a  bitter  warfare  with  the  base  and  servile  part 
of  himself;  has  not  to  debate  and  contend  with  and 
wring  at  length  a  few  reluctant  driblets  out  of  a  dry, 
hard,  tyrant  passion,  who  is  allowed  the  keys ;  has  not 
to  go  and  pound  and  importune,  as  it  were,  at  the 
tight  door  of  a  gloomy  iron  box,  constructed  for  a 
smooth  passage  in,  but  a  most  rubbing  passage  out. 
Behold,  —  see  how  pitiably  poor  the  little  creature  is. 
How  dreadfully  hard  it  comes.  Taking  from  him  his 
money,  is  very  much  as  if  you  tore  off  the  flakes  of  his 
flesh  ;  and  we  can  seem  to  see  the  wry  face  he  twists 
into,  under  the  agony  of  the  parting.  To  the  man  of 
the  other  sort,  with  the  heat  and  lust  for  more  summa- 
rily quelled,  —  the  great  purpose,  all  for  God  and  human 
welfare,  kept  dominant ;  to  him,  it  is  the  sweetest  and 
best  of  all  privileges  to  give.  He  welcomes  every  au- 
thentic application  ;  even  searches  for  the  opportunity, 
and  blesses  the  man  who  furnishes  him  with  one.  He 
finds  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus  true,  when  he  said. 
It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.  All  is 
turned  to  a  pure  heart  —  comfort  —  a  fresh  fountain  of 
happiness. 

We  see  how  important  it  is,  that  one  have,  at  the  bot- 
tom and  the  beginning,  right -principle.  It  is  a  grand 
regulator.  One  right  principle  at  the  head  and  foun- 
tain of  conduct,  puts  and  keeps  every  thing  in  the 
region  of  it,  and  resulting  therefrom,  right  also.  And 
a  principle  like  the  one  we  have  now  stated,  thus 
generic  and  summary  in  the  prevention  of  evil  and  the 
production  of  good,  has  herein  a  proof  that  it  is  right, 
and  is  of  God.     Just  see  what  it  does.     This  one  word, 


THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  135 

giving,  carried  through  on  this  principle,  succeeds  to 
blot  out  those  other  traitorous  and  engulfing  words, 
will  to  be  rich,  among  the  most  tainting  and  deadly 
in  all  the  human  vocabulary.  Planted  here,  doing 
this,  no  taint  shall  ever  touch  you :  no  ill-gotten  gain 
shall  ever  sear  your  conscience  or  burn  your  palm. 
The  clustering  graces  of  holiness,  the  rather,  will 
gather  aroimd  and  adorn  your  character.  All  that  is 
given  will  go  with  freeness  and  joy ;  and  the  result, 
the  amount  imparted,  shall  stand  in  the  end  as  a  noble 
monument,  not  of  merit,  but  of  grace,  —  the  soul's  treas- 
ure passed  over,  laid  up  on  the  other  side,  its  own 
inalienable  possession,  the  glory  and  wealth  of  its  im- 
mortality. 

Not  only  shall  you  be  blest  in  your  character  and 
deed,  but  those  connected  with  and  dependent  upon 
you  shall  be  blest  through  you,  as  your  intent  and 
prosperous  hoarding  never  could  have  blessed  them. 
Hence,  in  another  sense,  all  things  are  clean  unto  you. 
By  this  standard  and  course  of  beneficence,  by  this  ex- 
ample of  piety,  by  the  prayers  which  go  up  from  a 
heart  thus  pervaded  and  consecrated,  by  such  large 
outgoes  of  charity  as  sliall  keep  down  the  hope  of  in- 
herited wealth  in  those  coming  after,  you  help  form  an 
atmosphere  of  purity  for  children  to  breathe  and  grow 
up  in.  The  property  which,  fast  held  and  to  the 
last  skilfully  rolled  up,  would  have  been  a  snare  to 
them,  an  omnipresent  temptation,  as  it  commonly  is, 
and  would  have  taken  away  their  manly  strength  and 
salient  aspiration  and  achieving  enterprise,  as  it  com- 
monly does,  dooming  them,  and  passing  them,  with 
rare  exceptions,  to  the  shades  of  insignificance  and 
blank  nothingness  in  creation,  as  is  most  obtrusively 


136  THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING. 

and  painfully  the  case,  —  this  property,  dealt  with  and 
disbursed  on  the  other  principle,  is  charged  with  no 
such  perils,  is  changed  wholly  to  another,  a  vital  ele- 
ment and  issue.  The  carnal  and  corrupting  given,  the 
spiritual  is  received,  and  so  the  treasures  of  your  home 
become  vastly  greater  and  richer.  The  crowning  good 
is,  that  all  is  clean ;  your  hands  clean  ;  your  reputa- 
tion clean ;  your  soul,  through  grace,  clean ;  your 
children,  through  the  same  grace,  clean  ;  all  these 
clean  to  you. 

"We  should  love  to  commend,  could  we  do  it,  this 
principle  of  repressed  selfishness  and  of  enthroned  be- 
nevolence to  that  great  company  of  disciples,  who  have 
recently  been  brought  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 
How  remarkable  have  been  God's  dealings  with  the 
people  since  this  Board  held  its  last  Annual  Meeting :  * 
the  business  of  the  world,  by  a  sudden  stroke  and 
shock,  thrown  into  confusion,  into  complex  and  pros- 
trating disaster ;  men's  hearts  failing  them,  distress 
and  ruin  settling  down  upon  all  ranks  and  conditions ; 
then,  directly  upon  this,  almost  simultaneous  with  it, 
the  heavens  opened  and  poured  down  righteousness, 
and  myriads  have  been  made  rich  in  the  inalienable 
possession.  How  fitting,  that  those  who  have  come  in, 
and  are  still  coming,  we  trust,  amid  circumstances  so 
significant,  and  outpourings  of  the  Spirit  so  indicative 
of  the  grandeur  of  prophecy,  should  join  to  inaugurate 
a  new  order  of  piety ;  rather  to  bring  back  again  the 
primitive  order  and  type.      We  would  beg  of  this  com- 


*  This  sermon  was  preached  at  Detroit,  Sept.  7,  1858,  at  the 
Annual  Meeting  of  the  American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  For- 
eign Missions. 


THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  137 

pany  of  new  disciples,  could  we  speak  to  them,  to  take 
their  stand  for  Christ ;  resolved  to  live  a  life  of  single- 
ness and  generousness  to  the  Master  and  the  race  he 
is  redeeming.  Only  let  it  be  so  ;  this  elect  company 
coming  along  to  be  such  givers  and  workers,  and  still 
rising  higher  in  this  divine  scale,  then  shall  they  in- 
spire even  veteran  breasts  with  fresh  assurances  of 
success,  bring  light  and  cheer  amid  worldly  depression 
and  gloom.  Then  will  they  be  an  honor  to  Christian- 
ity, a  new  argument  of  its  verity,  and  an  added  force 
to  send  it  to  the  remote,  and  apply  it  to  those  near. 
We  have  reason  to  take  courage  from  this  living  acces- 
sion God  is  making  to  us.  We  may  not  repine  at  the 
great  secular  catastrophe  and  revulsion,  but  accept  it 
as  a  just  discipline,  and  be  thankful  even  for  those 
quick-working  breaks  in  the  invisible  enginery  of  God's 
providence,  which  bring  men  to  a  stop  in  season  not  to 
leap  the  precipice.  We  welcome  these  fresh  co-work- 
ers, beca^ise,  coming  in  as  they  do,  we  expect  that  they 
come  to  be  whole  men,  —  altogether  on  one  side,  —  that 
they  come  by  that  singular  sort  of  consecration  which 
gives  up  all  to  the  Lord,  —  body  and  soul,  the  man 
and  the  money,  —  not  trying  to  stand  somewhere 
between,  as  if  adjusting  and  connecting  those  great 
antagonisms,  God  and  Mammon ;  just  where  any 
quantity  of  professing  Christians  seem  to  be  stand- 
ing,—  I  mean,  are  standing;  and  what  they  are  do- 
ing :  doing  nothing  as  they  ought  to  do,  nothing 
largely  and  wortliily  for  the  Master ;  cankered,  eaten 
all  through  with  the  rust  of  selfishness ;  spoiled  for 
any  noble.  Christian  work.  To  any  persons  remotely 
meditating  the  hopes  or  the  profession  of  Christianity, 
we  say,  neither  the  Church  nor  the  world  wants  any 


138  THE    MORAL    DISCIPLINE    OF    GIVING. 

more  such  Christians.  These  anomalies  of  disciple- 
ship,  these  abnormals  of  the  kingdom,  wlio  lay  down  a 
part  of  the  price,  —  give  their  carcasses  and  keep  back 
their  coffers  ;  they  bring  neither  power  nor  credit  nor 
a  blessing. 

Is  it  not  an  astounding  fact,  when  there  is  so  much 
created  in  order  to  be  given,  and  when  there  are  so 
many  professed  servants,  new-created  of  God,  who 
hold  it,  and  ai3  bound  to  give  it ;  the  oath  of  consecra- 
tion most  solemnly  upon  them  ;  a  world  needing  it ; 
the  world  all  thrown  open  to  receive  it,  or  the  gospel 
it  might  send  ;  its  millions  upon  millions  brought  into 
vicinage ;  and  when  we  may  come  directly  to  them, 
and  impress  them,  and  mould  them,  and  put  them  in 
the  way  to  heaven  ;  and  yet  that  the  Church  fails  most 
frequently  and  decisively  in  meeting  the  cost,  as 
though  she  could  not  afford  to  set  her  dollars  against 
the  redemption  of  these  souls.  I  fear  she  hardly  puts 
down  annually  a  dime  against  a  soul.  The  men  to  go 
are  oftener  on  hand,  —  it  is  the  money  that  lags.  It  does 
seem  often  as  though  the  worst,  the  most  cruel,  form  of 
selfishness,  is  this  which  links  itself  with  religion  and 
religious  people.  Oh  this  selfishness  of  the  new  man, 
this  Christian  worldliness,  this  baptized  carnality,  this 
holy  greed  of  gain  ;  what  a  demoniac  heart  thou  hast ! 
Accursed  shape !  hellish  thing !  away  from  our  tem- 
ples and  our  hearts !  Let  the  Master  come,  if  he 
must,  with  his  scourge  of  cords,  and  drive  him  out  of 
our  temples  and  our  hearts ;  and  himself  possess  us, 
and  fill  us  with  his  own  good  spirit. 

But  tlie  blessed  Master  has  another  and  a  better 
way  to  purge  out  the  evil,  and  take  the  possession ; 
namely,  by  his  truth  and  grace.     This  is  the  doctrine 


THE   MORAL   DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING.  139 

of  the  text,  and  of  all  his  gospel.  The  Christian 
character  is  benevolence,  —  the  spirit  of  sacrifice  and 
of  work  for  a  lost  world.  A  missionar}^  spirit  is  the 
measure  of  it ;  a  giving  spirit,  at  once  the  measure 
and  the  promoter  of  it. 

Giving,  then,  is  one  of  the  means  of  grace,  —  one  of 
the  best  means  of  spiritual  growth.  If  no  good  exter- 
nally is  done  by  the  gifts,  the  charities,  still  a  vital 
and  immeasurable  good  is  done  to  the  giving  soul ; 
enough,  and  vastly  more  than  enough,  to  justify  the 
deed.  The  sordid  taunt  so  often  thrown,  "  Why  all 
this  waste  ? "  it  comes  of  the  sordidness  that  is  equal 
to  the  sale  of  the  Lord  himself,  —  the  thirty  pieces  in 
the  pocket  better  than  He.  I  repeat,  if  no  other  good 
is  done,  there  is  no  waste ;  no  matter  what  the  amount 
given,  be  it  only  enough,  and  given  with  the  Christian 
motive,  then  the  character  is  set  forward,  and  the 
Church  is  brought  up  higher  and  nearer  to  the  millen- 
nial state.  The  Church  must  pass  through  the  work 
and  the  sacrifice  of  establishing  the  millennium  abroad, 
in  order  to  make  one  in  her  own  pale.  Those  final 
words  of  her  Lord,  then,  which  lay  upon  her  this 
amazing  responsibility, — "  Go,  preach  the  gospel,  evan- 
gelize all  nations,"  —  are  to  her  an  untold  heritage  of 
blessings  and  of  blessedness.  They  embody  the  cor- 
rective and  expulsion  of  her  deadliest  foes ;  they  are 
to  her  the  necessary  means  of  the  victory,  and  the 
kingdom  and  the  crown  ;  I  mean  on  this  ground  of 
attainment,  —  personal,  separate  fitness,  reached  by 
the  culture  and  through  the  conflict  of  beneficent  giv- 
ing and  doing.  The  question  before  us  is,  Will  we 
meet  these  conditions,  and  have  the  millennium  at 
home,  the  kingdom  within  us,  —  not  forgetting  the  one 


14Q  THE   MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING. 

condition  onr  Lord  so  significantly  marks,  giving  alms 
of  such  things  as  we  have  ? 

To  very  many,  this,  as  a  means  of  grace,  of  spir- 
itual advance,  stands  in  the  first  place,  and  is  indis- 
pensable; stands,  in  a  sense,  even  before  prayer ;  they 
being  ahead  in  prayer,  behind  in  giving.  To  all  those, 
then,  who  have  given  leanly  and  grudgingly,  we  say, 
Arise  and  give,  —  give  bountifully  —  give  heartily  — 
give  wilfully, — just  because  something  within  resists 
and  says,  I  won't.  Give  the  more,  and  still  more,  from 
the  very  teeth  and  grip  of  the  old  retaining  passion. 
Give  with  the  measure  and  intent  to  crucify  it,  —  that 
hundred  the  nail,  that  thousand  the  spike,  that  ten 
thousand  the  spear,  —  and  so  proceed  and  persist  till 
the  base  and  slimy  thing  is  wholly  dead. 

And,  in  our  dealings  with  others,  the  minister,  in 
his  appeals  to  his  people,  must  come  to  them  with 
some  authority,  with  a  worthy  object,  and  with  a  siza- 
ble claim.  A  small  matter  will  not  do  the  business 
with  men,  taking  them  as  they  rise.  The  heart  of  the 
majority  is  so  snugly  shut  up,  —  the  orifice  not  unfre- 
quently  all  tight  and  twisted  and  gnarled,  —  if  you 
would  come  upon  it  with  any  likelihood,  it  must  be, 
not  merely  with  a  sharp  tool,  but  with  some  bulk  and 
weight.  Pry  at  it  with  a  massive  lever ;  some  little 
local  appeal  will  not  make  a  passage.  The  field  is  the 
world,  —  the  instrument  also.  Then  make  the  big 
world  into  a  wedge,  and  drive  that  in,  and  so  you  shall 
succeed,  and  they  and  the  world  shall  be  the  better 
for  it. 

Giving,  doing,  sacrificing,  on  the  right  scale,  is  not 
only  the  means  of  grace  to  ourselves :  it  is  the  secret 
of  power  in  what  we  do  for  the  needy  or  perishing 


THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE  OF  GIVING.  141 

Money  so  given  that  it  does  us  good  in  the  giving,  does, 
we  believe,  vastly  more  good  in  its  going  forth.  It 
takes,  so  to  speak,  an  embalming  and  vitalizing  from 
the  heart  it  leaves,  which  gives  it,  or  the  truth  it  com- 
missions, an  imbedding  in  the  hearts  it  goes  to.  A 
thorough  victory  over  selfishness,  achieved  and  shown 
on  the  part  of  Christians  and  the  Church,  becomes  the 
miracle  of  the  gospel,  —  its  moral  sign,  which  opens  a 
path  for  it  to  the  souls  of  sceptical  or  idolatrous  men. 
What  economy  appears  in  the  arrangement  of  means, 
and  what  responsibility  it  imposes,  that  our  condition 
of  power  toward  the  world  is  simply  that  the  gospel, 
by  our  whole  reception  of  it,  has  become  a  power  upon 
us, —  first,  a  power  upon  us,  then  a  power  within,  and 
a  power  emanant.  The  gospel  living  in  us,  and  work- 
ing out,  is  its  own  witness.  In  this  condition,  we  need 
spend  no  time  in  preliminaries,  none  in  philosophizing 
or  proving.  Filled  full  of  it  ourselves,  that  is  the 
argument;  and  .overflowing,  that  the  argument;  and 
giving  bountifully,  and  intently  working  for  the  good 
of  others,  that  the  argument.  So  was  it  with  the 
apostle  Paul.  Mighty  as  he  was  in  the  tread  of  his 
logic  when  he  chose,  in  the  main  he  was  his  own  argu- 
ment,—  moved  over  lands  and  seas,  himself  a  colossal 
demonstration.  The  same  with  the  Christians  then, 
—  their  character,  the  reign  of  love  throughout,  their 
total  conquest  of  selfishness,  no  man  calling  any  thing 
he  possessed  his  own  ;  that  their  argument.  What 
they  did,  history  tells  us,  and  we  shall  repeat  the 
achievement  when  we  repeat  the  character,  and  not  till 
then.  Our  first  responsibility  is  to  be  what  we  ought 
to  be,  and  what  we  may  be.  The  path  is  all  open  to 
the  attainment ;  the  divine  Helper  open  to  our  access : 


142  THE  MORAL  DISCIPLINE   OF   GIVING, 

to  liim  let  us  come,  with  hearts  open  and  longing  to 
receive  the  replenishments  of  good  which  shall  eject 
the  evil ;  those  enrichments  of  grace,  those  treasured 
gifts  of  salvation,  that  repletion  of  the  love  divine, 
which  shall  make  us  ready,  eager  even,  for  any  work 
or  sacrifice  jfitted  to  advance  the  kingdom  and  the  glory 
of  the  Master. 


XII. 

DOERS  OF  THE  WORD,  AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY. 

But  he  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving 
your  own  selves.  —  James  i.  22. 

'nr^HE  following  classification,  I  suppose,  would  em- 
-^  brace  the  entire  human  family  :  First,  those  who 
never  hear  the  gospel ;  second,  those  who  only  hear  it ; 
third,  those  who  hear  and  do.  The  most  numerous 
class  is  made  up  of  those  wlio  never  hear,  —  taking  in 
the  entire  world,  immeasurably  the  greater  portion ; 
the  next  larger  class,  I  take  to  be  those  who  are  hear- 
ers only  ;  the  smallest  of  the  three,  those  who  hear 
and  do.  As  to  the  first  class,  it  will  be  of  no  avail  to 
appropriate  to  them  a  portion  of  this  discourse,  for  the 
simple  reason,  that  they  will  not  hear  it  if  we  do.  We 
come,  then,  to  the  second  class,  the  hearers  only,  with 
the  exhortation  of  this  practical  apostle.  Be  ye  doers  of 
the  tvord,  and  not  hearers  only.  It  would  not  be  very 
strange,  if  some  of  the  last  named  were  present  to-day, 
hearers  only :  they  are  those  who  hear,  with  no  intent 
of  any  thing  further ;  hear,  with  the  calculation  that 
the  ear  function  will  be  the  last  of  it.  If  I  were  to 
name  some  subordinate  sections  of  this  large  general 
class,  — 

1.  One  might  be  made  up  of  those  who  happen  to  be, 
at  a  particular  time,  in  the  place  of  hearing ;  mere  in- 


144  DOERS    OP   THE    WORD, 

cideiital  hearers  of  the  gospel,  brought  in  by  some 
curiosity,  or  by  following  in  the  wake  of  others.  Such 
are  pretty  apt  to  sit  through,  as  hearers  only.  Thefe 
are  those  who  are  hardly  liearers  at  all.  They  came 
with  no  such  design.  They  came  rather  to  see  than 
to  hear ;  and  some,  more  especially,  to  be  seen.  They 
have  no  thought  of  worship,  or  desire  for  the  heavenly 
good  and  place.  Vacant  are  they,  vagrant,  unthinking ; 
hardly  lifted  to  the  respect  of  hearers  at  all.  If  at  all, 
hearers  only. 

2.  There  are  those  who  hear  to  cavil ;  to  take  some 
exception  to  the  system  or  the  gospel  of  God,  and  so 
to  find  out  some  way  of  escape  from  the  terrible  bear- 
ing of  this  gospel  upon  them  in  their  worldliness  and 
their  wicked  rejection  of  it.  They  see  difficulties,  mys- 
teries, inconsistencies,  they  think ;  contradictious,  even, 
in  the  system ;  certainly  and  flagitiously,  inconsistencies 
on  the  part  of  the  Church  and  its  members.  They  hear, 
if  perchance  they  may  detect  something  of  the  kind : 
for  they  are  sure  they  shall  feel  somewhat  better  for  it. 
If  they  can  by  any  means  get  their  Maker,  the  great 
God,  into  a  corner,  they  hope  to  be  able  to  keep  their 
own  souls  out  of  hell.  Such  are  hearers,  nervously 
awake,  and  dissectingly  sharp ;  and  amid  the  heavy 
drowsiness  which  is  sometimes  the  condition  of  thhigs 
in  this  place,  there  is  a  sort  of  satisfaction  in  having  a 
few  such  as  these.  They  do  us  this  honor,  —  they  liear 
us.  But  we  have  to  retort  back  upon  them  the  charge 
of  being  hearers  only. 

3.  There  are  those  who  hear  with  the  mere  critical 
ear.  They  are  not  so  much  cavillers  at  the  gospel 
message,  as  judges  upon  the  merits  of  the  preacher ; 
and  they  are  keen  at  seeing  blemishes,  quick  and  fruit- 


AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY.  146 

fill  in  the  line  of  fault-finding.  Style,  argument,  figures, 
manner,  here  and  there  awry,  —  so  they  pronounce. 
We  would  commend  this  thought  to  such,  —  that  this 
spirit  of  depreciating  criticism  indicates  a  limited  and 
shoal  mind  ;  one  not  having  attained  to  know,  nor  hav- 
ing the  breadth  to  see,  the  difficulties  of  a  right  per- 
formance.    This  also  holds,  —  they  are  hearers  only. 

4.  There  are  those,  and  this  is  a  growing  class,  who 
hear  as  matter  of  present  satisfaction  ;  hear  the  preach- 
ing of  the  gospel  mainly  to  be  pleased  by  it ;  to  be 
gratified  by  some  accomplishments  of  rhetoric,  or  rapt 
away  by  some  feats  of  oratory.  If  these  are  not  here, 
they  go  yonder  for  them.  They  want  the  pleasing  per- 
formance. They  do  not  want  any  stiif,  rough  truth ; 
they  want  nothing  that  shall  task  their  attention,  lay 
any  load  on  their  consciences,  or  wake  any  terror  in 
their  souls.  If  they  have  succeeded  in  hearing  some 
fine  music  and  some  charming  preaching,  their  end  in 
coming  to  the  church  is  wholly  answered.  Certainly, 
and  most  flagrantly,  are  they  hearers  only. 

The  apostle  advises,  yea,  commands,  us.  Be  not  hear- 
ers only,  deceiving  your  own  selves.  And  this  is  the 
reason  he  suggests  for  not  being  hearers  only,  —  that 
such  deceive  their  own  selves.  They  deceive  them- 
selves, doubtless,  with  the  idea  that  they  are  growing 
better  by  a  course  of  hearing  merely.  Some  are 
uniform  and  respectful :  storms  and  foul-going  may 
keep  Christians  away,  but  not  them ;  always  are  they 
in  their  place,  and  outwardly  so  reverent  and  attentive, 
that  the  deceiving  heart  whispers  to  each  one.  Now, 
some  good  will  come  to  me,  who  sit  here  thus  respect- 
fully and  patiently,  fetching  in  twice  every  Sunday  my 
lump  of  clay  for  the  divine  Potter  to  take  and  fashion 

10 


146  DOERS    OP   THE    WORD, 

into  a  vessel  to  honor ;  submissively  ready  am  I,  if  he 
only  will ;  and  I  cannot  but  hope  that  after,  on  his 
part,  looking  upon  the  same  lump  so  long,  he  will  be 
induced  to  take  hold  of,  and,  for  variety's  sake,  make 
a  change  in  it.  My  respected  and  passive  friend,  you 
deceive  yourself  in  the  tliought,  that  coming  and  sit- 
ting and  hearing  only  will  bring  to  pass  any  such  work 
of  sovereign  grace  upon  or  within  you. 

There  is  another  way  in  which  this  class  deceive 
themselves,  not  merely  by  the  long  and  reverent  con- 
tinuity of  hearing ;  but  also  by  certain  complacent 
experiences,  which  overtake  them  as  tliey  sit  and 
hear  such  truths  as  are  frequently  addressed  to 
them.  They  have  sensibilities,  and  now  and  then 
these  are  touched ;  under  some  pathetic  description, 
are  moved,  even  to  the  shedding  of  tears.  Be- 
neath certain  grand  revealings  of  truth,  as  they  sit 
and  listen,  and  are  rapt  above,  there  come  to  them 
moments  in  which  illusion  drops,  and  reality  lifts 
up  its  head ;  then,  as  they  catch  a  glimpse  of  them- 
selves in  God's  glass,  they  say.  Oh,  the  emptiness  of 
these  pleasures,  and  the  folly  and  shame  of  living  on 
as  we  do !  Now,  as  these  little  spots  or  passages  of 
something  better  heave  up  in  their  natures,  these  mo- 
mentary self-reproachings  and  upward  aspirings,  they 
deceive  themselves  by  supposing,  as  they  are  pretty 
sure  to  suppose,  that  they  are  growing  better  in  con- 
sequence of  them ;  when  the  fact  is,  as  our  faithful 
apostle  lays  it  down,  they  go  directly  out  from  one  of 
these  most  melting  occasions,  or  entertainments,  —  for 
all  such  are  entertained  when  some  pulpit  enchanter 
makes  them  sob  religiously,  —  though  seeming  angels 
in  their  trance  of  goodness,  they  go  out,  and  straight- 


AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY.  147 

way  forget  what  manner  of  men  they  were.  The 
world,  which  they  thought  was  lifted  away  for  a  little 
season,  comes  back  with  redoubled  force,  absolutely 
whelming  and  burying  them  ;  and  they  forget  all  about 
the  higher  life  and  the  blessed  land.  Instead  of  being 
made  better  by  the  fascinating  process,  they  are  made 
worse,  hardened,  by  it ;  are  farther  removed  from  any 
likelihood  of  any  thing  valid  or  abiding  in  religious  ex- 
perience ;  a  sort  of  sentimental  sinners,  but  moving  on 
to  a  veritable  and  a  terrible  damnation. 

Our  reason,  then,  against  being  hearers  only,  sums 
up  in  this :  that  hearing  only  brings  guilt  and  peril  to 
the  soul  so  practising.  Observe,  the  sin  is  not  in  the 
hearing,  but  the  hearing  only.  The  sin  may  be  even 
greater,  where  one  can  hear,  but  indolently,  in  the 
spirit  of  rebellion  refuses  to  hear.  I  can  conceive  that 
his  offence  is  the  greater  who  proudly  and  purposely 
separates  himself  from  the  gospel  of  God.  Still,  the 
offence  is  great  of  him  who  hears,  and  that  only ; 
and  the  retribution  is  certain,  first,  deceiving,  and 
then  bringing  destruction  upon  himself. 

1.  The  deception.  How  great  the  deception,  to  sui> 
pose  that  hearing  a  way  pointed  out  will  bring  one  on 
in  that  way.  As  if  one  who  is  sick  should  conclude 
that  hearing  the  prescription  of  the  physician  will  make 
him  well  again  ;  or  the  worldling,  that  hearing  the  road 
to  wealth  pointed  out  will  load  him  with  riches.  Just 
so  great  the  deception  that  the  hearers  only  practise  on 
themselves  in  the  matter  of  religion. 

2.  Not  only  great  is  the  deception ;  great  will  be  the 
destruction :  on  the  principle  that  he  that  knew  his 
Master's  will,  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten  with  many 
stripes.    What  an  anomaly  will  he  be,  as  viewed  in  the 


148  DOERS   OF   THE   WORD, 

light  of  those  coming  scenes,  standing  there  as  one 
who  came  from  the  presence  of  such  truths,  the  proffer 
of  such  gifts,  and  the  pressure  of  such  motives ;  hear- 
ing the  unmeasured  in  grace  and  goodness,  and  moral 
grandeur  even,  and  not  condescending  to  have  what 
only  the  Infinite  One  can  give,  and  he  give  only 
through  an  infinite  sacrifice,  and  what  he  stands  ready 
to  give  to  every  receiving  soul.  Who  of  us  would  care 
to  encounter  the  doom  incurred  by  folly  and  guilt  such 
as  that  ?  Wiio  care  to  go  from  these  flooding  beams 
of  truth  and  mercy,  and  there  be  awarded  as  one  who 
lived  and  moved  amid  them,  only  to  disregard  and 
despise  all  ?  We  had  better  not,  any  of  us.  We  shall 
be  piteously  sorry  for  it  at  the  end ;  mourning  then 
with  unavailing  and  consuming  regrets,  and  saying, 
Hoio  have  I  hated  instruction,  and  my  heart  despised  re- 
proof;  and  have  not  obeyed  the  voice  of  my  teachers,  nor 
inclined  mine  ear  to  them  that  instructed  me.  Woe  unto 
thee,  Capernaum ;  unto  you,  ye  inhabitants  of  Caper- 
naum. Ye  hearers  of  the  words,  ye  beholders  of  the 
works,  of  Jesus,  who  are  now  exalted  to  heaven,  lifted 
though  ye  be  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  privilege,  ye 
shall  be  brought  down  to  hell. 

This  defective  character  of  the  hearer  only,  so  pro- 
foundly doomed  and  sunk  in  its  conclusion,  let  us 
proceed,  in  the  next  place,  to  supplement  it  according 
to  the  teaching  of  our  apostle ;  and  this  is  done  by  the 
adding  of  a  single  w:ord,  —  Doers.  Be  ye  doers  of  the 
Word,  and  not  hearers  only.  There  is  a  vast  reach  and 
potency  of  meaning  in  this  little  word,  standing  in  this 
relation,  —  hearing  and  doing,  —  hearing,  with  the 
heart  to  do,  with  the  purpose  to  do.  The  hearing 
most  favorable  will  be  the  hearing  affected  by  the  pur- 


AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY.  149 

pose  to  do.  Then  it  will  be  candid  hearing :  nothing 
of  the  exceptional  or  the  critical  liearing  we  have  re- 
ferred to,  but  open,  candid, —  a  desire  to  know  just 
what  this  word  means ;  ready  to  admit  whatever  God 
has  declared.  Exhaustive  hearing :  drawing  to  the 
largest  extent  the  substance,  the  nutriment,  out  of  the 
Word,  that  it  may  minister  strength  and  growth  to 
tlie  soul.  Comprehensive  liearing  :  ready  to  hear  all  the 
sides  and  contrasts  of  truth,  the  fearful  as  well  as  the 
gentle,  the  fiery  doom  as  well  as  the  radiant  mercy. 
Courageous  hearing :  having  attained  to  possess  the  do- 
ing heart,  he  is  at  once  a  man  with  a  brave  heart ;  no 
terror  of  God  can  disturb  a  single  fibre  of  his  frame ; 
he  is  calm,  peaceful,  blessed  ;  alike  before  law  and  be- 
fore gospel,  the  threatening  or  the  comforting  strain. 

It  is  apt  to  prove,  also,  understanding  hearing.  If 
heard  with  the  purpose  to  do  it,  it  is  commonly  with 
an  instinct  rightly  to  understand  it.  Tliis  doing 
frame  abates  in  him  all  prejudices  against,  and  the 
particular  truth  stands  before  him  precisely  as  God 
intended  it  should.  Tliere  is  nothing  of  the  wheeling 
or  breakhig  it  into  the  direct  contrary  of  what  it  says. 
He  perceives  it  and  receives  it  just  as  it  comes  from 
the  mouth  of  God,  He  that  helieveth  and  is  baptized, 
shall  be  saved  ;  and  he  that  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned. 
Every  creature  with  the  obedient  frame,  the  world 
over,  will  join  in  this  understanding,  that  the  believer 
shall  be  saved  ;  the  unbeliever  shall  perish.  The  fault 
not  at  all  in  God's  putting,  —  all  clear  as  the  sun  on 
his  part.  It  is  the  twisting,  distorting  heart  of  dis- 
obedience, in  its  refracting  prejudices,  that  puts  all 
into  crookedness  and  contraries,  where  God  has  put 
all  in  clear  beauty  and  harmony. 


150  DOERS    OF   THE   WORD, 

God's  own  great  principle  of  interpreting  the  grand 
maxim  of  his  kingdom  is,  He  that  doeth  the  will  of 
God  shall  know  of  the  doctrine.  This  holds  ever, 
because  nearly  all  essential  religious  truth  is  practical 
truth  ;  it  is  truth  to  be  done  ;  and  the  doing  of  it  is 
an  expounding  of  it.  Hence  the  shortest  way,  com- 
monly, to  clear  away  the  difficulties  and  the  mysteries 
pertaining  to  it,  is  to  proceed  and  enact  it,  adopt  it 
into  the  life.  Take  prayer,  for  instance  :  what  a  mys- 
tery or  wonder,  —  the  creature  approaching  into  tlie 
presence  of  the  Infinite  Creator,  to  address  and  in- 
fluence him.  How  can  it  be  ?  How  can  I  presume 
to  do  it  ?  You  may  read  libraries  and  never  know 
how,  till  you  proceed  in  the  spirit  of  a  child  and  do  it ; 
till  you  actually  commence  speaking  to  him.  Thus 
begin,  and  you  will  find  help  in  every  preliminary  ; 
some  new  light,  it  may  be,  at  every  step,  as  you  go 
alone,  and  reverently  kneel,  and  audibly  speak,  and 
say.  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven. 

Or  the  word  you  hear  calls  you  to  Christ,  saying. 
Come  to  me  and  find  rest  to  your  soul :  but  the  way 
is  all  dark,  and  so  nothing  is  adventured  or  attempted. 
But  try,  attempt  it,  by  entering  on  some  service  Christ 
enjoins.  Do  that  duty  cheerfully,  as  well  as  you  can, 
because  Christ  asks  it  of  you  :  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
him,  attempt  it,  with  all  humility  and  self-renouncing  ; 
with  the  desire  and  the  prayer  that  you  may  be  enabled 
to  lay  over  your  soul  and  all  its  interests  into  Jesus' 
hands  to  be  blessed  for  Jesus'  sake  ;  and  I  should  not 
be  surprised,  if  you  were  to  find  the  way  opening,  the 
difficulty  diminishing,  and  the  darkness  clearing.  The 
duty  attempted  in  all  sincerity,  because  Christ  com- 
mands it,  and  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  and  honoring 


AND  NOT  HEARERS  ONLY.  161 

him,  will  prove,  pretty  likely,  a  step  toward  him,  if 
not  a  step  clean  to  him. 

It  is  very  obvious  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  there  is 
no  more  profit  in  the  hearing  of  God's  truth.  It  is 
because  of  the  practice,  so  common,  of  letting  it  slip, 
—  hearing  and  then  dropping  it.  It  is  because  there  is 
no  wakeful,  active  response  to  the  great  summons  of 
God ;  because  in  these  premises  no  resolved  putting 
forth  to  gain  the  mighty  boon  held  out  to  us  by  the 
generous  goodness  of  our  God.  Men  grow  perversely 
orthodox  ;  become  sticklers  for  grace  ;  choose  to  sit 
and  see  and  receive  the  salvation,  wholly  by  grace, 
in  no  sense  by  work ;  they  cannot  bear  to  have  God's 
sovereign  grace  dishonored  by  the  creature's  working. 
True,  God  the  Father  works  always  ;  this  they  know  : 
and  the  Son  works  also  ;  and  these  very  persons  work 
for  every  thing  else  they  have,  or  hope  to  have ;  still, 
notwithstanding  the  God  of  nature,  and  all  the 
beings  and  forces  of  nature,  and  themselves,  too, 
are  thus  alert  and  operative,  these  persons  persist  in 
being  saved  by  stubbornly  doing  nothing.  Some  of 
you  are  not  saved  because  so  untrustful,  because  you 
will  have  no  confidence  in  the  Blessed  Master.  When 
he  calls  for  some  of  your  doing,  as  when  he  says.  Go 
wash,  you  refuse :  you  do  not  go.  When  he  says, 
Stretch  forth  thy  hand,  you  reply.  Absurd  ;  all  the 
way  down  it  is  flaccid  and  dead  witli  palsy.  It  is  not 
absurd ;  because  with  his  word  goes  the  vital  power. 
The  instant  you  begin  obediently  to  raise  that  arm, 
that  arm  is  up  and  out.  So  in  all.  When  you  begin 
to  do  in  loving,  trusting  obedience,  help  and  life  divine 
begin  to  circulate  through  and  fill  you. 

My  unconverted  friends,  let  me  close  by  saying  to 


152  DOERS   OF  THE   WORD,   ETC. 

you  this  one  thing,  —  that  there  is  not  much  mystery 
in  being  saved  ;  yea^  none  at  all.  It  is  all  plain  mat- 
ter of  fact.  There  is  a  perfectly  plain  letter  about  it. 
You  know  the  letter,  are  full  of  it,  are  reeking  and 
running  over  with  it.  Will  you  do  it  ?  This  one 
work  of  God,  will  you  do  it  ?  Believe  on  Jesus  Christ, 
whom  God  has  sent. 


XIII. 

JUSTIFICATION  BY   WORKS. 

Ye  see  then  hoiv  that  by  works  a  man  is  Justijied,  and  not  hy 
faith  only.  —  James  ii.  24. 

"\T  TE  have  in  the  New  Testament  the  great  subject 
^  ^  or  doctrine  of  man's  justification  before  God, 
presented  under  two  aspects  :  one  made  prominent  by 
Paul ;  the  other  by  James.  And  on  account  of  the 
different  aspects,  or  parts  of  the  doctrine  they  severally 
had  their  eye  upon,  some  have  maintained  that  they 
held  conflicting  views  ;  Paul's  language  being,  That  a 
man  is  justijied  hy  faith,  without  the  deeds  of  the  law  ; 
James's  language  being.  That  hy  works  a  man  is  jus- 
tijied., and  not  hy  faith  only. 

1.  Let  us  examine,  now,  into  these  utterances,  and 
see  if  they  be  at  all  conflicting. 

The  subject  we  are  introduced  to  by  James  from  his 
stand-point  is,  the  importance,  yea,  the  necessity,  of 
works  in  our  justification  ;  and  thus  he  seems  to  teach 
that  justification  is  by  works,  works  taking  the  pre- 
cedence of  faith,  when  he  says.  By  works  a  man  is  jus- 
tijied. 

The  first  question  which  arises  is  this  ;  namely,  Is 
it  true  that  a  man  is  justified  wholly  by  works  ?  We 
answer.  No.  There  is  not  a  declaration  to  this  effect 
in  the  Bible  ;  not  a  passage  that  reads,  A  man  is  jus- 


154  JUSTIFICATION   BY  WORKS. 

tified  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  without  the  faith  which 
works  by  love.  All  Scripture  unites  in  condemning 
such  a  sentiment ;  even  this  passage  from  James  con- 
demns it  indirectly ;  his  words,  By  works  a  man  is 
justified,  and  not  hy  faith  only,  implying  clearly  that 
faith  has  an  important  function  in  the  soul's  jus- 
tification. 

This  leads  to  another  question  ;  namely,  Is  a  man 
justified  partly  by  faith,  and  partly  by  works  ?  This 
seems  to  be  the  doctrine  James  favors  in  certain  of 
his  statements.  If  it  is  the  doctrine  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, it  stands.  If  another  doctrine  is  taught  by 
the  whole  tenor  of  Scripture,  and  this  decisively  con- 
tradicted, then  it  cannot  stand,  and  we  must  seek  for 
another  as  the  true  interpretation.  I  know  not  where 
the  doctrine  is  taught,  know  not  the  text  which  un- 
equivocally affirms  that  justification  is  partly  by  faith, 
and  partly  by  works,  as  its  primal  ground  and  meri- 
torious cause.  If  no  such  doctrine  is  clearly  taught, 
then,  further,  we  ask,  Is  there  any  thing  in  Scripture 
which  cuts  short  such  a  doctrine,  clearly  condemning 
it,  and  as  clearly  teaching  another  doctrine  ?  We  think 
there  is.  It  is  denied  in  this  Book  that  a  man  is  jus- 
tified partly  by  faith,  and  partly  by  works  ;  denied,  we 
say,  inasmuch  as  it  is  here  taught,  in  repeated  in- 
stances, and  in  language  which  admits  of  no  double 
interpretation.  That  a  man  is  justified  by  faith  ivithout 
the  deeds  of  the  laiv.  This  is  Paul's  great  proposition 
in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans.  He  states  it  in  different 
forms :  he  proves  it  by  various  arguments  ;  shows 
that,  by  the  deeds  of  the  law,  no  flesh  can  be  justified 
before  God,  because  all  have  sinned,  and  come  under 
the  condemning  sentence  of  the  law.     To  such,  justi 


JUSTIFICATION   BY  WOEKS.  155 

fication  comes  freely  by  his  grace.  It  is  God's  work, 
by  him  given.  It  is  by  faith,  that  it  might  be  by 
grace.  Where  is  boasting  then  ?  It  is  excluded.  By 
what  law?  Of  works?  Nay;  hut  by  the  law  of  faith. 
Therefore,  says  Paul,  giving  to  the  sentiment  all  the 
weight  of  a  grand  conclusion,  therefore  ive  conclude, 
that  a  man  is  justified  by  faith  without  the  deeds  of  the 
laiv.  And  James,  also,  in  the  text,  really  teaches  the 
same  thing.  He  indeed  asks,  Was  not  Abraham  our 
father  justified  by  works,  when  he  had  offered  Isaac  his 
son  upon  the  altar?  But  he  immediately  adds.  And 
the  Scripture  was  fulfilled  which  saith,  Abraham  be- 
lieved Grod,  and  it  —  that  is,  this  faith  —  was  imputed 
unto  him  for  righteousness  ;  in  other  words,  for  his  jus- 
tification. Just  take  notice  here,  that,  according  to 
our  apostle  James,  Abraham  was  justified  by  an  act 
of  faith  ;  an  act  which  was  exercised  some  twenty 
years  before  he  offered  up  Isaac  upon  the  altar. 
James,  then,  teaches  that  it  was  by  faith  alone,  and 
so  not  partly  by  faith  and  partly  by  works. 

And,  in  this,  reason  concurs  with  the  teaching  of  in- 
spiration. We  do  not  suppose  that  reason  would  have 
thought  of  the  way  of  justifying  sinners  through  faith 
in  a  vicarious  sufferer.  It  was  above  reason,  the  de- 
vice of  God  ;  the  plan,  the  offspring  of  his  wisdom ; 
the  sacrifice,  the  gift  of  his  goodness.  But  reason 
approves  of  this  mode,  and  says,  If  at  all,  it  must  be 
by  faith  alone.  Justification,  when  it  takes  place, 
must  be  at  some  time,  some  instant,  and  be  complete, 
when  at  all.  But  this  cannot  be,  if  it  is  partly  by 
works.  In  that  case,  when  tlie  sinner  believes,  he  is 
but  half  justified,  when  he  has  performed  a  few  works, 
he  is  little  more  than  half ;  and  not  till  the  close  of  a 


156  JUSTIFICATION    BY   WORKS. 

long  life  of  good  works  is  he  wholly  justified.  He 
who  should  die  between  believing,  and  performing 
works,  having  no  time  allowed  him  for  works,  would 
belong  neither  to  the  righteous  nor  the  wicked.  The 
dying  believer,  believing  then  for  the  first  time,  could 
have  no  title  for  a  place  in  heaven.  Christ  erred  when 
he  said  to  sucli  an  one,  To-day  shall  thou  he  with  me 
in  Paradise.  Christ  did  not  err.  The  dying  peni- 
tent's faith  was  imputed  to  him  for  righteousness. 
The  justification  was  complete  the  moment  he  be- 
lieved, and  the  next  moment  he  was  in  glory. 

The  question  then  returns,  If  a  man  is  justified, 
without  the  deeds  of  the  law  or  works  of  personal 
righteousness,  by  faith  alone  ;  justified  before  he  has 
time  to  perform  external  works,  so  that  they  could 
have  no  part  nor  influence  in  the  matter,  —  in  what 
sense  is  a  man  said  to  be  justified  by  works  ?  What 
the  meaning  of  the  apostle  James  in  his  somewliat 
startling  and  seemingly  dissentient  language?  The 
meaning  is  evidently  this.  That  a  man  is  justified  by  a 
faith  which  will  produce  works,  and  not  by  faith  only  ; 
that  is,  not  by  a  faith  which  is  only  faith  ;  a  faith  whicli 
stands  alone,  because  it  has  no  power  to  connect  with 
itself  good  works  ;  no  power  to  produce  such  works  ; 
no  power,  because  it  is  dead.  This  what  this  apostle 
means,  and  all  that  he  means  ;  just  what  Paul  means, 
and  each  of  the  evangelical  writers.  They  all  mean 
to  say,  that  where  there  is  faith  to  justify  the  soul, 
there  will  be  works  to  justify  the  faith,  to  show  that  it 
is  a  living  faith,  working  by  love  ;  so  has  power,  pro- 
ductiveness. In  this  way  faith  is  made  perfect,  com- 
plete.    The  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit. 

The  justifying  faith  leads  to  acts  of  holy  living  ;  to 


JUSTIFICATION  BY   WORKS.  157 

deeds  of  beneficence.  As  the  fruit  is  part  of  the  tree, 
intimately  and  vitally  connected  with  it,  so  the  benev- 
olent and  holy  acts  are  a  part  of  the  faith :  they 
spring  right  out  of  it,  and  can  never  fail  to  be  where 
the  faith  is  found.  There  is  no  justification,  then, 
where  there  are  bad  works,  a  bad  life  ;  no  justification 
where  there  is  a  failure,  after  opportunity  granted,  to 
perform  good  works,  because  the  faith  is  wanting. 
And,  there  being  justification  where  there  are  the 
works  that  spring  from  the  living  faith,  we  see  how  it 
is,  in  what  sense,  a  man  is  justified  by  works,  and  not 
by  faith  only.  James's  doctrine  stands  clearly  forth 
in  the  following  words  or  formula:  A  man  is  justified 
by  a  living,  loving,  working  faith,  and  not  by  a  dead 
faith.  This  is  also  Paul's  doctrine,  and  John's  and 
Peter's,  and  that  of  the  Lord  himself. 

Faith  and  works,  —  how  difficult  a  matter  rightly  to 
balance.  And  how  bold  are  the  Scripture  statements 
on  either  side.  The  object,  doubtless,  is  to  place  each 
in  the  strongest  relief,  that  each  may  be  duly  consid- 
ered ;  that  neither  may  be  neglected  by  the  soul  honest 
and  earnest  to  find  the  way  to  heaven'.  And  yet 
it  is  a  fact,  that  this  very  strength,  fulness,  and  com- 
pleteness of  statement  has  even  been  the  occasion 
of  practical  error  ;  not  necessarily,  but  on  account 
of  the  obtuseness  of  some  heads,  and  the  blindness  of 
more  hearts.  The  two  features  or  aspects  of  the  one 
doctrine  lie  apart  in  the  Bible ;  and  some  cannot  and 
others  will  not  put  them  together  in  one  structure  of 
symmetry  and  beauty.  The  part  that  is  congenial  is 
taken ;  a  part  for  the  whole.  Some  take  to  the  side 
of  faith,  and  will  have  it  dishonored  by  no  works ; 
justified  by  faith,  without  any  works  of  righteousness. 


158  JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS. 

Such  say,  We  believe,  that  is  enough ;  believing, 
heaven  cannot  be  missed.  These  claim  to  think  a 
great  deal  of  Paul  and  his  teachings.  Others  prefer  to 
go  independently  to  heaven,  if  they  go  at  all ;  not  be 
beholden  to  another  for  their  character  and  their  title 
to  the  place.  These  profess  to  get  their  liglit  from 
James.  In  the  former  case,  the  indolence  of  tlie  heart 
operates,  its  love  of  ease,  of  self-indulgence  :  in  the 
latter,  its  pride  is  at  work  ;  and,  between  the  two,  —  the 
self-indulgent  tendency,  and  the  self-justifying  ten- 
dency, —  it  is  to  be  feared  a  great  many  souls  come 
short  and  perish. 

2.  But,  leaving  its  clearness  and  boldness  of  instruc- 
tion, let  me  call  your  attention,  in  the  next  place,  to 
the  vast  weight  of  motive  the  gospel  brings  to  bear 
against  these  two  false  tendencies  of  our  nature. 

Take,  first,  the  self-justifying  tendency.  How  strong 
is  this,  often,  and  how  common.  The  heart  naturally 
is  full  of  self-righteousness.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
depravity  of  the  world.  It  is  the  doctrine  of  most  of 
the  religions  of  the  world.  Far  the  greater  part  of 
the  visible  Church  is  resting  to-day  upon  a  foundation 
of  works.  And  there  is  nothing  men  will  not  submit 
to,  to  gain  heaven  as  matter  of  merit.  They  will  give 
any  thing ;  will  sacrifice  any  thing ;  will  suffer  any 
thing.  They  will  walk  to  heaven  in  their  own  blood,  if 
they  can  get  there  in  their  own  way.  Such  the  strength 
of  the  self-justifying  tendency.  And  how  is  it  met  ? 
It  is  met  and  rebuked  by  tlie  cross  of  Christ ;  God  giv- 
ing his  Son  ;  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.  Why  was 
this  ?  It  was  that  sinful  men  might  be  justified.  It 
was  because  they  could  be  justified  in  no  other  way. 
Paul    has   it  put  most   conclusively,  If  righteou&ness 


JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS.  159 

come  hy  the  law,  then  Christ  is  dead  in  vain.  It  is  an 
enormous  absiirdity  to  suppose  that  the  Son  of  God, 
co-equal  with  the  Father,  would  come  down  from 
heaven,  and,  by  dying,  do  for  men  what  every  one  by  a 
little  painstaking  could  do  for  himself.  This  one  great 
and  mysterious  act,  the  wonder  of  heaven,  and  ever 
since  the  theme  of  its  songs,  admits  of  no  such  petty 
and  contemptible  partnership.  The  voice  of  this  event, 
like  the  sound  of  eternal  waters,  proclaims  through 
the  universe.  Look  unto  me,  and  he  ye  saved,  all  the  ends 
of  the  earth.  If  Christ's  death  has  any  efficacy,  it  is  a 
justifying  efficacy  ;  and,  if  men  have  any  reason,  they 
will  bow  before  such  a  fact,  the  suffering  Son  of  God, 
shedding  cleansing  blood  for  them ;  admit  the  truth 
that  he  is  the  only  justifier,  he  the  all-sufficient  jus- 
tifier,  and  consent  to  be  justified,  and  beg  to  be 
justified  alone  by  faith  in  him  ;  by  the  efficacy  of  his 
obedience,  and  to  the  glory  of  his  grace. 

Pass  now  to  the  self-indulgent  tendency ;  this,  too, 
not  infrequent  or  feeble,  because  fostered  by  the  indo- 
lence of  our  nature.  The  plan  here  is  to  go  to  heaven 
on  the  strength  of  the  atonement.  Christ  does  all ; 
we  are  simply  to  trust :  there  is  no  call  for  effort,  or 
resistance  to  sin,  or  spiritual  discipline.  It  must  be 
acknowledged  here,  that,  in  a  free  salvation,  it  is  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  wholly  to  avoid  the  licentious  ten- 
dency. Where  the  pardon  comes  so  cheaply  to  our- 
selves, the  sin  often  will  not  be  decisively  dealt  with  ; 
nor  the  offence  cut  short  off;  nor  the  duty,  at  all 
hazards,  be  done.  The  short  argument  is.  If  we  sin, 
we  have  an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the 
righteous.  If  we  have  faith,  we  shall  reach  heaven ; 
we   have  no  concern  about  any  thing  else.     A  short 


160  JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS. 

argument  indeed,  and  a  very  short- sigli ted  one  ;  foi 
we  can  hardly  read  a  single  book  of  Scripture,  not 
even  a  book  of  Paul,  the  great  apostle  of  faith,  without 
finding  ourselves  cut  off  from  hope,  unless  we  do  works 
meet  for  repentance.  We  are  even  justified  by  works  ; 
cannot  be  justified  by  a  faith  which  produces  no  works  ; 
are  as  really  condemned  without  right  living  as  we 
should  be,  were  riglit  living  the  meritorious  ground  of 
our  acceptance.  Thus  at  the  first  symptom  of  perver- 
sion in  this  quarter,  we  are  met  by  all  the  weight  of 
motive  which  can  be  made  out  of  God's  authority,  and 
heaven's  glories,  and  hell's  wailings. 

2.  Let  me,  in  another  remark,  ask  your  attention  to 
this  practical  point,  that  the  test  God  appoints  is  not 
the  hidden  feeling,  but  the  outward,  visible  act.  God 
not  only  requires  us  to  have,  but  to  show  that  we  have, 
religion ;  his  love  in  our  hearts.  Indeed,  this  matter, 
in  a  sense,  takes  care  of  itself.  Where  the  vital  prin- 
ciple is,  there  will  be  a  manifestation.  If  here  within, 
you  cannot  hide  it.  It  goes  forth,  and  will  go  forth. 
It  is  light,  and  you  cannot  make  it  dark.  You  may, 
indeed,  light  your  candle  and  put  it  under  a  bushel ; 
but  if  you  put  it  on  a  candlestick  it  will  give  light  to 
all  that  are  in  the  house.  It  follows,  that,  if  a  man  is 
a  Christian,  the  world  will  find  it  out.  If  he  has  true 
faith  in  his  heart,  this  faith  will  cause  him  to  do  some- 
thing by  which  he  will  be  exposed  and  known  as  hav- 
ing it.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  having  Christ's 
religion  to  ourselves ;  no  going  masked  to  heaven  ;  no 
night  passage  there  ;  no  tunnelled  underground  road 
to  the  place.  I  know  there  are  many  who  love  to  talk 
about  religion  as  something  between  their  own  souls 
and  God,  —  nobody's  else  bushiess.     If  it  be  so,  al- 


JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS.  161 

ways  and  everywhere  a  hidden  thing,  we  tell  you  it  is  a 
dead  thing.  If  you  keep  it  thus  a  secret,  it  is  because 
you  are  ashamed  of  it.  Its  nature  is  to  come  out ;  the 
teaching  of  its  great  Author  is,  that  we  confess  him 
before  men.  Here  the  test :  if  you  have  it,  you  do 
show  it.  If  you  show  it  not,  you  have  it  not.  If  there 
is  nothing  seen,  there  is  nothing  inside. 

And  it  is  worthy  of  notice  how  simple  and  palpable 
this  test  is  for  the  believing  soul  itself.  Every  one  can 
apply  it,  and  settle  the  matter  with  a  good  degree  of 
assurance  whether  he  is  a  Christian  or  no.  Some  may 
not  have  the  power  of  going  into  a  thorough  analysis 
of  their  feelings,  their  love,  faith,  penitence,  and  de- 
ciding upon  the  genuineness  of  these  affections.  But 
they  can  decide  whether  they  love  to  do  good  ;  whether 
the  inward  affection  breaks  spontaneously  forth,  in 
deeds  of  self-denial,  acts  of  kindness  ;  whether  theirs 
is  a  life  of  piety,  because  they  love  such  a  life,  its  holy 
fellowships  and  occupations.  One  would  think  it  easy 
to  determine  whether  the  heart,  in  the  tide  of  its  affec- 
tions, flows  easily  in  this  direction.  If  so,  can  there 
be  any  mistake  as  to  what  is  the  character  in  God's 
sight  ?  We  may  hesitate  upon  the  quality  of  a  tree, 
from  the  soil  it  grows  in,  from  its  form,  the  beauty  or 
fragrance  of  its  blossoms,  or  even  from  analyzing  the 
sap  that  circulates  through  it.  But  when  we  see  the 
fruit,  handle  and  taste  it,  and  thus  prove  it  to  be  un- 
questionably good  fruit,  we  at  once  exclaim.  It  is  a 
good  tree. 

3.  Another  remark,  suggested  by  the  principle  we 
are  considering,  is,  that  the  religion  of  Christ,  the  reli- 
gion of  faith,  holds  a  vast  pre-eminence  over  all  other 
systems  or  associations,  as  a  religion  of  beneficence. 

11 


162  JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS. 

It  exceeds  every  thing  else  in  the  mode  of  its  opera- 
tion. The  good  deed  springs  from,  and  is  a  part  of, 
the  good  principle  ;  the  life  of  beneficence  flows  right 
out  of  the  heart  made  right,  and  it  will  flow,  if  the 
heart  continues  to  beat.  In  this  way,  there  is  cer- 
tainty to  the  beneficence.  God  implants  the  faith  and 
love  ;  these  impel  to  the  labor  of  doing  good,  and  make 
the  labor  a  pleasure ;  and  this  labor  of  doing  good, 
re-acting,  makes  still  better  the  heart  that  gives  the 
beneficent  impulse.  There  are  ways  of  doing  good 
from  the  force  of  example  upon  us  ;  out  of  a  regard  to 
our  reputation,  or  fearing  the  imputation  of  meanness 
if  we  do  not  do ;  by  agreements,  associations,  and 
organizations.  God's  way,  the  way  of  faith,  is  to  do 
it  right  out  of  the  character,  whose  light  will  spread, 
its  pure  fountain  send  out  some  refreshing  stream. 
God's  way  is  the  better  way  for  the  greater  extent 
which  is  reached  by  it.  All  other  ways  are  limited, 
local,  being  founded  on  some  form  of  selfishness. 
They  mostly  proceed  upon  the  old  heathen  plan  of 
loving  those  that  love  us,  and  of  lending  with  tlie 
hope  that  we  shall  receive  as  much  again.  Tlie  law 
of  faith  contemplates  no  clan  nor  class  nor  reciprocity  ; 
but  says.  Let  us  do  good  unto  all  men.  To  the  narrow, 
niggardly  question,  A7id  who  is  my  neighbor?  it  points, 
in  reply,  to  a  world  in  ruins,  and  says.  To  these  dis- 
tant and  spreading  millions  all,  are  ye  debtors.  God's 
way  by  faith  is  better,  too,  for  its  tried  character,  its 
age  and  perpetuity.  There  have  been  other  modes 
and  styles  and  fashions,  —  now  this  way,  now  that ; 
now  this  object,  now  that.  Plans  and  schemes  and 
clubs  have  risen  and  flourished  and  passed  away ;  but 
this   way   by   faith   and  love  is  the  same  yesterday. 


JUSTIFICATION    BY    WORKS.  1(J3 

to-day,  and  through  all  time ;  perfectly  simple  and 
mightily  powerful.  It  is  doing  good  because  the  heart 
has  faith,  and  therefore  will  make  us,  and  we  cannot 
help  it,  because  our  blessedness  is  in  it.  It  has  ever 
been  the  way  of  the  faithful.  Nearly  all  the  good  to 
lost  and  suffering  men  has  been  done  thus ;  and  all 
yet  to  be  done,  will  be  in  the  same  way,  through  the 
same  law  and  principle,  and  urgency  of  faith  living  in 
the  heart. 

4.  I  remark,  further,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  exagger- 
ate the  importance  of  works  in  religion,  their  impor- 
tance as  being  the  test  of  its  genuineness.  They  are 
the  proof  that  we  have  the  living  power ;  and  proof, 
also,  that  it  is  a  power  from  God.  Good  works  authen- 
ticate the  inward  power,  demonstrate  its  divinity  ;  they 
crown  it  with  honor ;  compel  for  it  the  respect,  the 
homage  even,  of  wicked  men  ;  they  clothe  it  with  in- 
fluence and  power  over  such  men.  Works,  too,  the 
just  character  and  life,  give  power  to  the  individual 
Christian  ;  they  give  him  a  right  to  speak,  and  give  an 
efficacy  to  his  words.  His  words,  backed  by  his  deeds, 
and  made  living  by  his  heart's  love,  become  weighty, 
often,  on  other  hearts  that  hear  them.  And  then,  the 
works  not  only  give  confirmation  to  the  character  :  they 
are  themselves  angels  of  mercy ;  blessings  wherever 
they  fall ;  eyes  to  the  blind,  feet  to  the  lame,  life  to  the 
dead.  They  spread  the  light,  and  help  bring  down 
the  power  ;  and  the  dead  in  sin  spring  to  a  new  and 
an  endless  life. 

Well  for  us  all  would  it  be,  my  Christian  friends, 
well  for  the  cause  of  our  Master,  well  for  the  world  we 
live  in,  could  we  say.  By  works  are  we  justified,  and 
not  by  faith  only.     It  is  too  much  by  faith  only  ;  the 


164  JUSTIFICATION   BY   WORKS. 

cold,  dead  faith,  the  demons'  faith,  which  believes  and 
trembles ;  just  enough  to  disturb  the  soul,  not  enough 
to  give  it  rest ;  not  only  no  comfort  in  it,  but  no  good 
will  be  done  by  it.  But  get  the  true  kind,  and  you 
cannot  have  too  much  of  it.  Nor  can  you  make  too 
much  of  it.  Faith  is  first  and  essential ;  faith  be- 
fore, and  far  greater  than  works.  Faith  constitutes 
the  power,  —  power  to  conquer  the  world  and  con- 
quer sin  and  conquer  death  itself.  For  this  power,  go 
to  the  right  source.  Such  a  light  and  flame  can  come 
from  no  spark  of  your  own  kindling.  It  must  come 
from  heaven's  altar;  it  is  the  gift  of  God,  to  be  sought 
by  the  importunities  of  a  soul  that  hungers  and  cries 
and  clings  and  wrestles,  till  the  blessing  comes,  till  the 
faith  is  given.  This,  given,  will  administer  support 
and  comfort :  no  comfort  in  works,  but  as  the  sign 
and  fruit  of  faith.  Faith  and  faith's  objects,  all  in  all. 
Simple  faith  and  trust,  —  Christ's  blood  and  righteous- 
ness, —  these  the  soul's  stay  in  its  final  exigency.  The 
past  life,  the  best  deeds  of  it,  afford  no  place  of  rest ; 
all  dark  and  drear  till  the  soul  come  back  to  these ; 
flies  as  a  bird  to  the  mountain.  Comfort  only  here, 
comfort,  support  all-sufficient,  all-sustaining  here. 

Thou  man  appointed  to  die,  begin  with  this  faith ; 
let  it  enter  you ;  make  it  your  possession  ;  receive  it 
as  the  work  and  gift  of  God,  and  you  will  find,  that, 
having  this  in  its  vital  fulness,  you  have  every  thing  for 
triumph  in  life's  encounters,  —  for  peace  and  joy  at 
its  close. 


XIV. 

CONFESSION  OF   SIN. 

But  if  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  he  is  in  the  light,  we  have  fel- 
loivship  one  with  another  ;  and  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his 
Son  cleatiseth  us  from  all  sin.  If  we  say  that  we  have  no 
sin,  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us.  If  ive 
confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  Just  to  forgive  us  our 
sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteousness.  If  we  say 
that  we  have  not  sinned,  we  make  him  a  liar,  and  his  word 
is  not  in  us.  —  1  John  i.  7-10. 

THIS  passage  of  Scripture  brings  to  view  the  duty 
of  confession  of  sins,  and  the  blessed  conse- 
quences of  that  confession.  It  seems  to  be  a  very 
simple,  practical  exhibition  of  the  way  of  being  deliv- 
ered from  our  sins.  For  this  reason  I  have  chosen  it 
as  the  subject  of  my  discourse,  at  this  time :  and  if 
there  are  some  before  me  to-day,  who  feel  any  measure 
of  interest  in  this  matter  of  being  delivered  from  sin, 
and  saved  through  the  gospel,  if  they  will  attend  to 
me,  I  will  try  to  be  intelligible  and  profitable  to  them. 
Let  me  say,  in  the  first  place,  that  confession  implies 
sin,  because  sin  is  the  matter  confessed,  if  we  confess. 
According  to  this  scripture,  our  condition  is  that  of 
sinners.  Do  any  doubt  this,  and  so  make  it  necessary 
to  go  into  the  proof  of  it  ?  We  say,  in  a  word,  God 
declares  the  doctrine  or  the  fact,  with  great  explicit- 


166  CONFESSION   OF   SIN. 

uess  in  his  holy  word.  He  testifies  against  his  crea> 
ture  man,  every  man,  that  he  is  a  sinner. 

Men  testify  in  regard  to  one  another  that  they  are 
sinners.  Every  man  in  the  world  believes,  or  acts  on 
the  belief,  that  every  other  man  in  the  world  is  a  sin- 
ner. Not  only  this,  every  man  knows  in  his  own  case, 
in  his  own  breast,  that  he  is  a  sinner.  His  own  heart 
tells  him  so  ;  and  God,  who  is  greater  than  his  heart 
and  knows  all  things,  tells  him  so.  Well  may  we  say 
in  the  phrase  of  the  Apostle,  that  if  any  one  says  he 
has  not  sinned,  he  deceives  himself,  he  speaks  against 
the  voice  of  his  own  conscience  and  consciousness.  If 
any  one  says  he  has  not  sinned,  and  is  not  morally 
depraved,  he  contradicts  the  opinion  which  all  the  rest 
of  the  world  have  of  him.  If  any  one  says  he  has  not 
sinned,  he  charges  Christ  with  impertinence  and  folly 
in  coming  to  save  him,  and  save  the  world,  when  there 
are  none  needing  to  be  saved.  One  step  more  :  if  any 
say  they  have  not  sinned,  they  make  God  a  liar.  When 
men  have  done  these  two  things,  namely,  made  Christ 
inane  and  God  a  liar,  it  would  seem  that  such,  at 
least,  might  be  set  down  in  the  class  of  transgressors, 
wrong-doers.  The  fact  is,  as  God  in  his  word  declares, 
and  Christ  in  his  humiliation  and  painful  death 
affirms,  and  every  person,  in  the  deep  place  of  his  own 
bosom,  knows,  tliat  man  is  a  sinner ;  all  have  gone 
astray  ;  the  whole  race  lies  guilty  before  God. 

Such  being  the  unquestioned  state  of  the  case,  it  is 
the  wisdom  of  all  to  acknowledge  it.  And  this  brings 
me  to  speak  of  the  duty  of  confession.  Much  is  said 
of  this,  great  stress  is  laid  upon  it,  in  the  Scriptures. 
It  seems  to  be  made  one  of  the  conditions  of  salvation  ; 
put,  indeed,  on  the  same  footing  with  repentance.     If 


CONFESSION   OP   SIN.  167 

we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us 
our  sins.  He  that  covereth  his  sins  shall  not  prosper  ;  but 
whoso  confesseth  and  forsaketh  them  shall  have  mercy. 

A  duty  or  exercise  which  is  related  to  such  impor- 
tant results,  it  is  well  to  understand  ;  and,  understand- 
ing it,  that  we  truly  and  betimes  perform  it. 

What  is  the  confession  here  spoken  of?  Confession 
of  sin.  To  whom  is  it  made  ?  All  sin  is  to  be  con- 
fessed to  God,  because  all  sin  is  committed  against 
God.  Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I  sinned,  is  the 
heart's  language,  when  the  heart  speaks  rightly  of  its 
sin.  But  this  statement,  though  it  seems  to  be,  is  not, 
inconsistent  with  another,  that  some  sins  are  to  be  con- 
fessed to  men.  We  mean  here  no  auricular  confession, 
confession  of  sins  to  the  priest,  for  this  practice  can 
minister  only  to  immeasurable  evil,  as  it  has  done 
in  the  priest-ridden  church  which  enjoins  the  practice. 
We  mean  that  men  are  to  confess  to  others  those  sins 
in  which  they  have  wronged  them  ;  the  confession  to  be 
in  part  a  reparation.  But  these  sins,  and  all  others, 
as  I  have  intimated,  are  to  be  confessed  to  God.  How 
confessed  to  him  ?  What  are  the  marks  of  a  true  and 
accepted  confession  ?  I  answer,  when  genuine,  it  is  not 
merely  a  service  of  the  lips,  but  also  of  the  heart ;  a  ser- 
vice of  the  lips  and  the  heart.  Those  err  greatly  who 
make  confession  and  prayer  a  mere  matter  of  silent,  un- 
uttered  meditation.  Such  do  not  half  do  their  duty ; 
it  is  but  a  flimsy  pretence,  a  putting  off  our  Maker 
with  a  shadow  of  our  duty.  Confession  implies  a  dis- 
tinct, verbal  mention  and  utterance  of  our  sins,  pro- 
ceeding from  a  clear  perception  and  feeling  of  the  fact 
and  guilt  of  our  sins.  This  distinct,  vocal  utterance 
of  our  sin  is  essential  to  a  proper  confession.    Another 


168  CONFESSION   OF   SIN. 

thing  embraced  in  the  idea  of  confession  is  a  separate, 
and  often  minute  statement,  of  the  sins.  The  statute 
is,  when  an  individual  shall  be  guilty  in  one  of  these 
things,  he  shall  confess  that  he  has  sinned  in  that 
thing.  This  particularity  is  important  as  a  test 
whether  there  be  in  the  heart  the  true  spirit  of  confes- 
sion. Is  there  not,  sometimes,  discoverable  in  people, 
may  we  not  sometimes  find  in  ourselves,  a  readiness 
to  acknowledge  in  the  general  that  we  are  sinners  and 
utterly  inexcusable ;  but  the  admission  and  the  con- 
fession that  we  have  sinned  in  this  and  that  and  the 
other,  cannot  be  brooked  for  a  moment  ?  The  soul 
most  meekly  lying  under  the  generic  doctrine  and 
charge  of  sin,  most  proudly  and  fiercely  repelling  all 
specific  allegations  of  sin,  need  we  say,  there  can  be 
no  sincerity  there.  The  hatefullest  of  all  the  forms 
and  exhibitions  of  depravity  is  there. 

Confession  implies,  furthermore,  self-condemnation, 
and  a  full  justification  of  the  law  and  the  administra- 
tion of  God.  Its  language  is.  Against  thee,  thee  only, 
have  I  sinned,  and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight :  that  thou 
mightest  be  justified  zvhen  thou  speakest,  and  be  clear  when 
thou  judgest.  The  confessor,  seeing  his  sins  to  be 
great,  aggravated,  unreasonable,  and  inexcusable,  he 
confesses,  in  view  of  his  guilty  course,  that  God  would 
be  just  in  cutting  him  off,  and  consigning  him  to  the 
place  where  the  bitter  fruits  of  sin  are  reaped  without 
end.  In  the  act  of  confession  he  lays  himself  pros- 
trate and  submissive  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  and 
yields  himself  to  the  righteous  disposal  of  his  Maker. 

This  implies  that  in  true  confession  there  is  also  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  soul's  helplessness,  and  con- 
sequent dependence.     The  language  is,  and  it  is  truly 


CONFESSION   OF   SIN.  169 

felt,  and  fervently  uttered,  'I  have  destroyed  myself; 
my  help  is  in  thee.'  I  owe  ten  thousand  thousand 
talents,  and  have  nothing  to  pay.  I  have  no  works  of 
merit,  no  untarnished  righteousness,  to  present.  If 
my  debt  is  ever  removed,  it  must  be  remitted ;  if  I 
ever  possess  any  available  righteousness,  it  must  be 
the  gift  of  God. 

There  is  one  idea  more,  and  this  is  a  crowning  attri- 
bute, altogether  indispensable  to  acceptable  confession ; 
namely,  the  forsaking  of  sin.  Whoso  confesseth  and  for- 
saketh  them  shall  find  mercy.  The  purpose  to  abandon 
sin  pervades  and  impregnates  all  the  words  of  the  con- 
fession. The  purpose  is  an  honest  one,  and  begins  to 
be  accomplished,  is  more  than  half  accomplished,  in 
the  act  of  confession.  He,  then,  who  sincerely  con- 
fesses his  sins,  does  it  with  a  thorough  conviction  of 
the  evil  of  sin  and  of  the  extent  of  his  own  depravity ; 
with  a  deep  sense  of  his  utter  helplessness  and  de- 
pendence, and  a  decisive  readiness,  an  achieving  reso- 
lution, to  forsake  all  known  transgression.  These  three 
things  are  fundamental  qualities,  inseparable  elements 
in  all  genuine  acknowledgment  of  our  sins  before  God. 

Such  is  the  duty.  The  question  arises,  Why  is  such 
prominence  assigned  to  it  in  the  Bible  ?  such  im- 
portance attached  to  its  performance  ?  I  speak  of  it, 
now,  not  as  involving  repentance,  but  solely  with 
reference  to  this  idea,  this  form  of  duty,  implied  in  the 
word  confession.  What  are  the  reasons  for  the  con- 
siderations in  favor  of  the  confession  of  our  sin  ?  the 
motives,  if  you  please,  which,  if  you  admit  them,  would 
lead  you  to  practise  it  ? 

Let  me  state  two  or  three  points  in  this  connection, 
and  say,  — 


170  CONFESSION    OF   SIN. 

1.  That  when  true  confession  is  entered  upon,  evi- 
dence is  furnished,  that  a  course  of  serious  dealing  is 
begun  with  the  soul.  It  is  manifest  that  that  person 
has  taken  up  the  matter  of  his  salvation  in  sober 
earnest,  as  though  he  meant  to  bring  something  to 
pass  in  the  premises.  The  way  of  confession  is  the 
way  of  thoroughness,  involves  the  essential  idea  of 
thoroughness,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  separating,  ana- 
lyzing process,  taking  up  the  parts,  going  through 
the  books,  item  by  item.  The  man  goes  about  it  very 
much  as  the  merchant  does  when  he  would  know  surely 
just  how  he  stands.  A  rough  lumping  and  guess  will 
afford  no  satisfaction  to  a  creditor  of  his.  But  when 
he  enters  into  the  details,  then  it  appears  that  he 
means  to  know,  and  that  those  concerned  shall  know, 
all  about  it. 

2.  I  say,  further,  by  this  accuracy  of  detail,  in- 
volved in  the  idea  of  confession,  this  separating  and 
looking  at  the  items  and  parts  of  our  sinning,  we  gain 
the  most  vivid  conception  or  realization  of  the  amount 
of  our  sinning,  the  enormous  bulk  and  magnitude 
which  grows  up  from  the  sum  total  of  our  sinning. 
By  entering  into  the  minuteness  of  our  sinning,  we 
sooner  come  to  understand  how  great  sinners  we  are  : 
just  as  going  over,  and  causing  separately  to  pass 
before  the  mind,  the  parts  which  go  to  make  up  some 
enormous  material  bulk,  brings  us  nearest  to  an  ade- 
quate conception  of  that  bulk.  How  imperfect,  for 
example,  our  idea  of  the  size  of  the  earth  from  read- 
ing the  figures,  noting  that  it  is  twenty-five  thousand 
miles  around  it.  But  when  we  begin  and  survey  in 
detail,  with  the  number  and  dimension  of  each,  the 
continents,  islands,   peninsulas,   oceans,   seas,  lakes, 


CONFESSION   OF   SIN.  171 

rivers,  which  go  to  make  up  the  earth's  size,  we  have 
then,  impressively  mapped  to  our  vision,  the  greatness 
of  the  world  we  inhabit.  Just  so  it  is  we  approximate, 
in  thought,  toward  the  bulk,  the  vast  aggregation,  of 
our  sinning. 

3.  There  is  another  important  service  this  confession 
of  sin  does.  The  particularity  which  we  have  seen 
to  be  essential  to  it,  affects  the  heart.  It  is  a  law  of 
our  nature,  that  particulars  move  us,  stir  the  sensibili- 
ties ;  whilst  general  views  are  distant,  cold,  unmeaning. 
On  this  principle  it  is,  that  confession  leads  directly  to 
a  melted,  subdued,  penitent  frame  of  mind.  By  con- 
fessing sin,  the  heart  becomes  more  sensibly  affected 
with  the  evil,  the  hatefulness,  of  sin.  It  is  the  remark 
of  a  preacher  of  the  olden  time,  "  That  while  sin  sits 
close  in  the  heart,  its  baseness  is  hid ;  we  cannot  see 
it  till  we  cast  it  forth  by  confession,  as  a  man  cannot 
see  the  corruption  that  is  in  his  stomach  till  he  spits  it 
out."  In  this  way,  by  a  course  of  thorough,  faithful 
confession,  he  attains  to  utter,  and  is  constrained  to 
utter,  the  patriarch's  self-abhorring  formula.  Behold, 
I  am  vile. 

I  remark,  in  this  connection,  that  we  now  see,  in  part, 
why  it  is  that  so  much  in  the  Bible  is  made  to  depend 
upon  confession.  Where  the  spirit  of  confession  exists, 
there  is  great  frankness,  openness  of  character,  —  a 
trait  which  the  religion  of  the  gospel  everywhere  in- 
sists on,  and  greatly  commends.  Where  there  is  true 
confession,  God  is  honored.  In  this  way  do  we  espe- 
cially give  him  the  glory  of  his  omniscience.  Con- 
fession tends  to  abase  the  sinner  before  God,  and  bring 
him  into  a  right  state,  —  a  humble,  penitent,  submitting 
state  of  mind.     He  comes  into  a  state  to  receive  the 


172  CONFESSION    OF   SIN. 

great  remedy  for  sin  provided.  The  confession  does 
not  procure  the  pardon,  the  cleansing,  spoken  of.  It 
only  puts  the  vessel  into  an  attitude,  a  condition,  to 
receive  the  washing,  the  cleansing.  True,  the  promise 
is.  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  for- 
give us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighteous- 
ness. But  in  a  preceding  verse  we  are  told  what  it  is 
tliat  does  the  cleansing :  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his 
Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.  And  all  the  sin  that  is 
ever  cleansed  away,  is  cleansed  by  the  blood  of  Jesus. 
As  another  apostle  teaches.  Without  shedding  of  blood 
is  no  remission.  I  will  not  here  go  into  the  argument, 
to  show,  that,  according  to  the  Scriptures,  the  blood, 
the  atonement,  of  Christ,  and  not  the  confession,  is 
the  ground,  the  procuring  cause,  of  the  pardon  and  the 
cleansing.  The  confession  is  connected  as  a  condition : 
a  fit  and  reasonable  one,  but  still  only  a  condition.  It 
is  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  which  cleanses 
us  from  sin.  And  when  we  come  in  the  spirit  of  hu- 
miliation and  confession,  this  blood  of  the  Son  of  God 
does  cleanse  us  from  all  sin.  To  the  sin-sick,  the  sin- 
burdened  soul,  this  is  a  most  precious  declaration.  To 
the  man  lying  beneath  the  revealing  light  of  a  near 
eternity,  made  serious  by  the  contact,  almost,  of  its 
mighty  scenes,  these  words,  if  he  can  take  hold  of 
them,  are  words  of  solid  comfort.  "  These  words," 
said  one,  lying  in  these  circumstances,  —  a  man  great 
both  in  intellect  and  heart,  as  great  as  this  age  has 
seen,  — "  these  words.  The  blood  of  Christ  his  Son 
cleanseth  us  from  all  sin,  I  would  not  part  with  for  all 
the  world."  So  he  felt  and  said  at  that  hour :  they 
were  all  his  help  and  hope.  And  yet,  this  their  power 
of  comfort  to  the  needy  soul  in  its  hardest  strait,  is 


CONFESSION   OP   SIN.  173 

alleged  sometimes,  in  scorn,  against  them.  The  late 
distinguished  Robert  Hall  tells  us,  that,  immediately 
after  preaching  to  his  people  in  Cambridge  a  sermon 
on  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement,  salvation  alone 
through  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  a  member  of  the 
congregation,  some  polished  Greek,  probably,  came  up 
to  him,  very  much  excited,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Hall,  this 
preaching  won't  do  for  us,  —  it  won't  do  for  us.  It  is 
fit  only  for  a  congregation  of  old  women."  —  "  Do  you 
mean  my  sermon,  sir,  or  the  doctrine  ?  "  —  "  Your  doc- 
trine, sir."  —  "And  why  is  it  that  the  doctrine  is  fit 
only  for  a  congregation  of  old  women  ?  "  —  "  Because 
it  is  just  what  will  suit  the  musings  of  people  tottering 
upon  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  who  are  eagerly  seek- 
ing support."  — "  Thank  you,  sir,  for  your  concession," 
said  Mr.  Hall.  And  well  might  he  thank  him  ;  for 
conceding  that,  was  really  acknowledging  the  doctrine 
to  be  of  God.  The  doctrine  that  suits  the  soul,  the 
provision  that  meets  its  wants,  gives  it  comfort  and 
support  in  that  illumined  place  and  most  honest  hour, 
and  does  this,  not  once,  but  always,  when  the  sincere 
application  is  made,  is  unquestionably  from  heaven. 

And  we  say  here,  in  all  seriousness,  let  no  man  be 
in  any  haste  to  reject  it.  Let  him  wait  till  he  has  got 
through  with  these  two  great  chapters  of  experience, 
the  checkered  chapter  of  living,  and  the  briefer  and 
more  sombre  chapter  of  dying ;  and  when  he  has  felt 
the  successive  billows  of  sorrow,  and  the  sharp  pangs 
of  conviction,  the  wearying  burden  of  his  sin  as  it  lies 
heavy  upon  his  soul ;  has  known  what  it  is  to  come 
with  this  burden  to  the  outer  edge  of  life,  and  bear  it 
when  the  last  sickness  has  wasted  the  energies,  and 
where  eternity  sends  back  some  flashes  of  its  light; 


174  CONFESSION   OF  SIN. 

let  him  wait  till  then,  and,  if  he  finds  he  has  no  occa- 
sion for  this,  his  Maker's  remedy  for  the  ruin  of  his 
soul,  then  let  him  cast  it  from  him,  and  go  before  his 
God  without  the  garment  his  God  provided  for  liim. 
Let  him  wait  till  then,  and  I  do  not  say  he  will  be  a 
believer,  but,  I  say  this,  he  will  try  hard  to  be  one, 
and  would  give  worlds,  had  he  them,  if  he  were  a  be- 
liever in  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  blood  and  righteous- 
ness. 

I  have  brought  this  subject  before  you,  mainly,  for 
its  intelligible  and  most  practical  character.  We 
here  open  to  you,  as  it  were,  one  of  the  outer  doors 
into  the  kingdom  of  God.  Enter  that  door,  and  you  at 
once  strike  upon  another ;  and,  the  moment  you  pass 
that  other,  you  are  safely  and  joyfully  in.  To  the 
more  interior  and  fundamental  announcement  the 
preacher  makes,  such  as  Repent  of  sin,  Trust  in 
the  atonement,  you  reply.  We  do  not  understand : 
we  do  not  know  how :  we  cannot.  We  say,  to-day, 
Confess  your  sins  to  God.  Go  into  the  secret  place ; 
take  the  proper  attitude ;  with  seriousness,  with  dis- 
tinct vocal  utterance,  confess  your  sins  to  God.  You 
say,  perhaps,  It  will  do  no  good.  It  will  be  only  a  lip 
service,  the  heart  having  no  part  in  it,  and  so  nothing 
will  be  accomplished.     Perhaps  so. 

Let  me  tell  you  another  thing :  It  is  certain  nothing 
will  be  accomplished,  no  redemption  will  come  to  your 
soul,  if  you  do  not  confess  your  sins.  But  if  you  begin, 
where  God  enjoins  you  to  begin,  in  the  act  of  con- 
fession, you  cannot  tell  but  all  the  rest  will  follow.  If 
by  one  step  you  enter  the  outer  door,  by  another,  if  not 
by  the  same  step,  whilst  in  the  act  and  attitude  of  con- 
fession, you  may,  by  the  Spirit's  help,  enter  the  inner, 


CONFESSION   OF   SIN.  175 

and  stand,  a  redeemed  worshipper  in  the  temple  of 
God's  grace.  You  must  enter  the  outer  first.  And 
this  first  thing  or  step  is  clear,  simple,  intelligible, 
practicable.  God  here  says  to  your  soul,  This  do, 
confess,  —  begin  there.  He  seems  to  make  salvation 
turn  upon  some  visible,  tangible  thing.  He  said  to  the 
young  man.  Go,  sell.  This,  first ;  then,  follow  me. 
Go,  sell  all.  Tliat  enough?  That  save  him?  No. 
But  in  doing  this,  actually  selling  in  obedience  to 
Christ,  the  grace  of  God  would  meet  him,  his  heart 
would  come  right,  the  Saviour  be  loved,  and  his  treas- 
ure be  in  heaven.  Here  is  the  philosophy  of  being 
saved.  It  is  God's  order  and  philosophy.  We  ask 
you  to  try  it.  Where  God  says.  Do,  there  do.  Sell, 
sell.  Make  confession,  make  confession.  For  this 
there  is  the  material.  Sins  enough  you  have,  and  a 
vivid  memory  of  them  ;  a  tongue  to  utter  them,  a  con- 
science to  condemn  tliem,  a  heart  to  feel  them.  Con- 
fess them  till  your  heart  shall  loathe  them,  and  your 
will  shall  abandon  and  cast  them  out;  till  the  grace 
and  the  balm,  and  blood  of  Jesus,  come  with  a  cleans- 
ing and  healing  and  all-blessing  efi&cacy. 


XY. 

AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME. 

And  ye  will  not  come  to  me,  that  ye  might  have  life. — 
John  v.  40. 

^  I  ^HIS  o\ir  Saviour  said  to  the  Jews,  as  descriptive 
-*-  of  their  case.  The  fact  with  them  was  that  they 
were  not  willing  to  come  to  Christ  that  they  might 
have  life.  The  fact,  or  the  reason  of  the  fact,  applies 
equally  to  all  who  do  not  come  to  Christ ;  the  reason 
is,  they  are  not  willing  to  come  to  him.  To  come  to 
Christ,  means  to  be  a  Christian.  The  text  teaches 
that  men,  in  their  natural  state,  are  not  willing  to  be- 
come Christians,  and  through  this  course  to  be  saved. 
My  object  in  this  discourse  is  to  show  the  sinner  that 
he  is  not  willing ;  that  these  words  of  Christ  are  in- 
deed true. 

And  my  line  of  argument  is  simply  this ;  namely,  to 
point  out  some  of  the  preventives,  the  difficulties,  the 
hindrances,  in  the  way  of  coming  to  Christ,  selecting 
such  as  all  will  confess  may  be  removed,  and  then 
show  that  where  there  is  no  attempt  to  remove  even 
these,  there  is  evidently  no  serious  wish  to  become  a 
Christian,  and,  as  such,  to  be  saved.  To  enter  at  once 
upon  the  process, — 

1.  One  difficulty,  and  that  a  prominent  one  in  the 
way,  is  the  settled  spirit  of  inattention.     People  do 


AND   YE   WILL   NOT   COME   TO   ME.  177 

not,  as  a  general  thing,  give  their  thoughts,  their  prac- 
tical attention,  to  the  subject  of  religion.  That  this 
spirit  of  inattention  is  a  difficulty,  a  barrier,  where  it 
prevails,  I  need  not  stop  to  prove.  It  is  self-evident, 
that,  in  order  to  become  religious,  men  must  feel,  re- 
pent, trust,  love.  But  how  can  they,  unless  their 
minds  are  directed  to  those  considerations  which  pro- 
duce feeling.  Right  here,  we  affirm,  is  a  grand  diffi- 
culty in  the  way,  —  not  giving  heed  to  religious  truths 
and  interests.  That  this  inattention  prevails  very  ex- 
tensively among  all  classes  of  the  people,  there  need 
be  no  other  proof  than  that  found  in  the  mind's  absorp- 
tion in  other  things ;  in  this  wide  and  deep  engross- 
ment in  the  seen  and  the  temporal ;  an  engrossment 
so  absolute,  that  it  leaves  the  mind  free  for  nothing 
else,  certainly  not  free  for  the  pursuits  of  religion. 
The  Bible,  the  Word  of  God,  how  rarely  read  and 
studied  with  the  eagerness  of  a  soul  searching  for 
truth  and  salvation.  Then  what  neglects  of  the  public 
worship  of  God,  of  the  place  where  these  great  truths 
and  claims  are  contemplated  and  enforced.  What 
multitudes,  who  never  go  at  all.  How  many  others, 
who  go  as  a  mere  form  or  fashion.  How  small  an 
excuse  will  keep  them  away.  Nothing  will  keep  them 
from  the  mart  of  gain  or  the  room  of  pleasure.  They 
will  go  on  hobbling  limbs  and  with  paralytic  jerk,  go 
through  fire  and  flood,  to  reach  the  place  of  traffic. 
But  the  place  of  God's  truth  and  worship,  the  will  has 
no  vigor  at  all  in  this  direction.  How  often  is  the  body 
only  brought  in  ;  and  that,  perhaps,  merely  to  take  its 
hebdomadal  nap.  Or,  if  the  soul  comes  in  also,  and 
keeps  wakeful,  how  often  is  it  that  it  may  think  of 
business,  calculate  the  chances  of  success,  count  up 

12 


178  AND   YE   WILL  NOT   COME   TO   ME. 

the  probable  profits  that  will  come  along  from  this  or 
that  enterprise. 

Let  us  now  candidly  and  seriously  bring  the  facts 
of  the  case  before  the  mind.  Do  you  believe  the  things 
which  are  spoken  in  the  Word  of  God,  —  that  you  pos- 
sess a  soul ;  that  that  soul  is  defiled  by  sin,  is  justly 
condemned,  and  needs  renewal  and  redemption ;  that 
faith  and  repentance  are  imperative  duties ;  that  the 
alternative  is  eternal  ruin  ?  Yes,  you  reply :  we  do 
believe  these  things.  But  when  urged  to  this  duty, 
and  the  other,  to  repentance  and  faith,  you  plead  that 
you  are  unable ;  that  you  cannot  repent,  and  so  you 
cannot  secure  your  salvation,  if  you  would.  If  you 
would  :  very  significant  words  these.  Would  you  ? 
Are  you  willing  to  be  a  Christian  ?  Let  me  ask  another 
question,  which  will  help  to  answer  this.  You  say  you 
cannot  do  thus  and  so.  We  will  admit  it.  But  there 
are  some  things  which  you  must  confess  you  can  do ; 
and  these  God  enjoins,  as  well  as  the  others.  Have 
you  done,  are  you  doing,  these  ?  You  can  give  your 
attention,  your  thoughts,  to  the  subject.  You  can 
put  yourself  in  the  way  of  being  instructed,  of  being 
moved  and  aroused  by  expostulating  truth  and  a  striv- 
ing spirit.  The  question  returns.  Have  you  done,  are 
you  doing,  these  ?  In  other  words,  are  you  willing  to 
give  the  subject  of  your  salvation  a  thoughtful  and 
earnest  attention  ?  This  lies  at  the  beginning,  is  the 
first  step.  The  Psalmist  says,  /  thought  on  my  ways, 
and  turned  my  feet  unto  thy  testimonies.  You  say  you 
cannot  turn.  But  that  is  not  the  first  thing  in  the 
order  of  the  work.  I  thought  and  turned.  You  can 
think  upon  these  matters.  If  you  do  not  this,  but 
steadfastly  refuse  all  earnest  attention  to  it,  then  the 


AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME.        179 

pretence  that  you  would  like  to  be  a  Christian  is  wholly 
insincere. 

2.  My  next  statement  is,  that  sins,  outward  acts  of 
disobedience,  whilst  those  acts  are  persisted  in,  consti- 
tute an  insuperable  obstacle  to  the  soul's  coming  to 
Christ.  We  do  not  say,  that  breaking  off  from  outward 
sins  is  coming  to  Christ.  But  this  we  say,  it  always 
must  and  will  be,  that  the  person  who  truly  comes  to 
Christ  breaks  off  from  all  overt  acts  of  disobedience. 
Every  thing  which  he  knows  to  be  wrong  he  is  ready 
to  give  up,  and  does  give  up.  And  the  casting  off  of 
these  is  ordinarily,  and  in  a  sense,  an  introductory 
step.  There  is  a  person,  we  will  suppose,  who  is 
seriously  thinking  of  becoming  a  Christian,  has  some 
desires  that  way.  But  he  is  an  habitual  sabbath- 
breaker.  We  say,  not  a  step  can  he  take,  not  an  effec- 
tual inch  can  he  move,  toward  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
till  he  ceases  from  that  habitual  sabbath-breaking.  Or 
he  is  a  profane  swearer,  and  is  seeking  Christ,  or 
pretends  to  be,  and  interchanges  his  oaths  with  his 
prayers.  Can  any  one  doubt  that  his  first  step  is,  to 
be  done  for  ever  with  his  swearing  ?  Or  he  is  persist- 
ing in  a  career  of  manifest  fraud ;  or  he  is  allowing 
some  feature  of  decided  immorality  in  the  transaction 
of  his  business  ;  or  he  is  dealing  out  poison  to  his  fel- 
low-men, for  the  gains  of  the  traffic ;  or  he  himself  is 
indulging  in  the  intoxicating  cup;  some  practice  is 
upon  him,  which  God's  law,  and  even  the  light  of 
nature,  condemns.  And  every  person  moved  to  thought- 
fulness  has  some  such  things  about  him,  habits,  doings, 
which  he  knows  to  be  wrong.  We  say,  in  no  one  of 
these,  and  we  might  indefinitely  swell  the  catalogue 
of  a  similar  kind,  and  still  say,  in  no  one  of  all  these-, 


180        AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME. 

may  the  awakened,  the  interested  person  take  the 
ground  that  he  will  persist  in  the  admitted  wrong  till 
he  has  evidence  that  Christ  has  accepted  him,  and  then 
break  off.  If  he  takes  that  ground,  he  probably  will 
never  have  evidence  that  Christ  has  accepted  him ; 
because  in  that  state  and  attitude  he  will  never  come 
and  submit  to  Christ.  But  where  there  is  a  tliorough 
procedure,  from  the  very  inception  of  the  mind's  in- 
terest, and  a  prompt  acting,  just  so  far  as  the  mind  has 
light,  casting  off  the  offensive  thing,  not  as  matter  of 
self-righteousness,  but  from  the  force  of  ingenuous 
conviction,  there  is  progress,  and  by  the  grace  of  God 
there  will  be  greater  progress.  This,  commonly,  is  the 
order,  the  process,  the  way,  in  coming  to  Christ. 

The  question  before  us  is  this :  Are  you  willing  to 
come  to  Clirist  ?  If  you  are,  you  are  willing  to  abandon 
all  known  outward  transgressions  ;  for  the  abandoning 
of  these  is  a  part  of  the  work  in  coming  to  Christ.  The 
fact  is,  that  a  vast  many  are  not  willing  to  abandon 
these.  They  will  acknowledge  the  importance  of  the 
matter,  the  necessity  of  the  great  preparation.  They 
have  a  degree  of  solicitude  on  the  subject.  Still,  there 
are  certain  wrong  things  they  refuse  to  give  up.  We 
affirm,  that  it  is  wholly  vain  for  them  to  plead  inability 
to  come  to  Christ,  or  to  say  they  do  not  know  how  to 
come  ;  for  here  is  something  they  can  do.  It  is  a  mat- 
ter perfectly  plain.  They  can  see  it,  and  they  can  do 
it.  They  can  quit  these  wrong  practices.  There  is 
not  a  particle  or  shred  of  mystery  or  impracticability 
in  this  whole  region.  We  do  not  say,  that  quitting 
the  wrong  practices  is  the  same  as  becoming  a  Chris- 
tian ;  but  that  they  must  quit  the  wrong  practices,  if 
they  ever  do  become  Christians.     This  is  a  part  of  the 


AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME.       181 

work,  ordinarily  a  precedent  part.  Inasmuch  as  this 
is  a  part  they  can  do,  if  they  are  not  willing  to  do  this, 
then  they  stand  convicted  of  unwillingness  to  come  to 
Christ.  The  Saviour's  words  stand  luminously,  con- 
victively  true  hefoi'e  our  very  eyes,  Ye  will  not  come 
to  me,  that  ye  might  have  life. 

3.  I  remark,  again,  there  are  certain  exterior  duties 
which  must  be  performed  on  coming  to  Christ ;  duties 
enjoined  by  the  Saviour.  I  will  name  this  one  of 
Prayer.  It  is  in  part  an  external  performance ;  and, 
when  acceptable,  it  is  accompanied  with  the  desires  of 
the  heart.  Persistent  neglect  of  this  duty  is  a  matter 
standing  in  the  way  of  a  person's  salvation ;  I  mean  by 
this,  that,  so  long  as  there  is  persistence  in  the  neglect, 
there  can  be  no  salvation. 

The  Saviour  says,  Wlien  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy 
closet,  and  when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy 
Father  which  is  in  secret ;  and  thy  Father  ivhich  seeth  in 
secret,  shall  reward  thee  openly.  Here  is  the  duty,  hav- 
ing something  external  about  it,  something  spiritual. 
The  external  part  may  be  performed  while  the  heart  is 
wholly  away  from  God.  In  that  case,  it  is  the  form 
only.  Still,  the  external  is  a  part,  and  must  be  per- 
formed, in  order  to  the  complete  and  acceptable  per- 
formance of  the  duty.  Let  the  question  our  text 
suggests  recur  again.  Do  you  desire  salvation  ?  Are 
you  willing  to  come  to  Christ  ?  Then  listen  to  that 
voice.  Enter  into  thy  closet  and  shiit  thy  door.  Here 
is  a  duty.  Are  you  willing  to  undertake  it ;  to  enter 
upon  a  course  of  stated,  secret  prayer ;  willing  to  go 
alone  and  prostrate  your  soul  before  God,  aud  confess 
your  sins,  and  implore  his  mercy,  through  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ,  and  persist  in  importunate  pleas  for  this 


182        AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME. 

mercy  upon  that  leprous  soul  of  thine ;  and,  if  need  be, 
continue  long  in  that  attitude,  and  those  earnest  be- 
seechings  for  help  ?  We  seem  to  hear  you  confess  the 
importance  of  salvation,  and  at  times  you  sigh  for  the 
evidence  of  being  in  the  possession  of  it.  If  I  only 
could,  how  gladly  would  I  take  it.  If  I  only  knew 
what  to  do,  how  gladly  would  I  do  it.  Well,  here  is 
something  for  you  to  do  :  will  you  do  it  ?  Enter  into 
thy  closet.  I  do  not  say  that  if  you  comply  and  do  this 
duty  externally,  it  will  be  enough ;  that  if  you  enter 
into  your  closet,  and  remain  there  and  are  seemingly 
fervent  there,  you  will  assuredly  find  mercy,  accept- 
ance. I  have  no  authority  to  say  any  such  thing.  But 
I  have  authority  to  say,  Enter  into  thy  closet,  and  wlien 
thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  there  pray,  there  humble  thy- 
self, there  prostrate  thy  soul,  as  in  the  dust,  before 
God.  Are  you  willing  to  do  this  thing  which  Clirist 
enjoins  ?  You  cannot  interject  the  plea  of  incompe- 
tency, and  say  you  do  not  understand,  or  have  no 
strength  to  perform  it.  You  do  understand,  and  you 
can  do  it.  You  can  go,  for  you  can  walk  ;  and  you  can 
kneel,  for  you  have  joints.  If  you  are  not  willing  to 
do  this,  am  I  uncharitable  in  saying  that  you  are  not 
willing  to  be  a  Christian  ? 

I  might  go  on  and  introduce  other  plain  and  obvious 
duties,  which  are  an  indispensable  and  unquestioned 
part  of  the  process  and  work  of  becoming  a  Christian, 
and  make  it  appear  that  while  you  are  unwilling  to 
perform  these,  which  you  acknowledge  to  be  obvious 
and  practicable,  you  are  unwilling  to  do  the  other  part, 
the  main  thing,  unwilling  to  come  to  Christ. 

There  comes  not  only  the  conviction  of  unwillingness 
from  this  process,  but,  as  intimately  connected,  — 


AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COMB  TO  ME.        183 

1.  The  fact  of  inexcusableness.  It  is  clear  that  men 
have  no  good  excuse  for  not  coming  to  Christ.  It  is  in 
vain  for  any  one  to  say,  I  cannot  repent,  cannot  make 
myself  a  Christian,  whilst  he  has  not  done  what  he  knows 
and  confesses  to  be  a  duty,  and  also  knows  that  lie  can 
do.  It  is  in  vain  for  him  to  say,  I  cannot  pray  aright, 
when  he  never  attempts  to  pray  at  all.  It  is  in  vain 
for  any  one  to  say,  I  cannot  feel,  when  he  deliberately 
refuses  to  look  at  God's  truth  seriously,  thoughtfully ; 
to  dwell  upon  the  amazing  facts  and  verities  of  his 
revelation. 

2.  I  remark,  further,  that  guilt  comes  as  another 
ready  inference  from  our  subject  and  process.  And 
the  guilt  in  these  premises  is  great,  because  it  is  the 
guilt  of  an  almost  entire  neglect  of  those  great  matters. 
I  am  supposing,  all  along,  that  you  admit  their  verity, 
and  their  unmeasured  importance,  as  having  to  do  with 
the  weal  or  the  woe  of  a  coming,  eternal  state.  The 
greatness  of  these  things,  their  inconceivable  worth 
and  weight,  we  behold,  as  we  can  nowhere  else  see 
them,  in  the  coming,  the  incarnation,  the  suffering, 
and  the  dying  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God.  The  things 
neglected  are  those  which  he,  at  such  a  cost,  came  to 
secure.  The  salvation,  then,  is  a  great  salvation. 
This  is  what  is  neglected,  this  great  salvation.  And 
the  allegation  is,  that  you  attempt  nothing  seriously 
for  your  soul's  weal ;  and  this,  when  you  are  ready  to 
rise  to  any  height  or  continuance  of  endeavor  in  the 
strife  for  mere  worldly  good.  You  do  this,  when  Christ 
has  done  so  much  in  the  mighty  promptings  of  his 
infinite  heart,  has  poured  forth  the  blood  of  that  heart, 
has  sent  the  Spirit,  has  given  the  Bible  and  the  means 
and  ordinances  of  grace.    Yea,  he  stands  and  calls.  If 


184        AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME. 

any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  7ne  and  drink:  the 
weary,  come  ye  ;  the  burdened,  come  all ;  and  him  that 
Cometh  to  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.  And  then  he 
is  obliged  to  add,  in  grief,  And  ye  will  not  come  to  me, 
that  ye  might  have  life.  The  life,  it  is  there,  and  you 
can  get  it  nowhere  else,  and  yet  you  will  not  come  to 
him  for  it.  It  is  there  in  its  fountain  fulness  and  over- 
flowing freeness ;  ye  may  have  it  by  simply  coming : 
whosoever  will,  let  him  come,  —  and  ye  will  not  come  to 
him  for  the  life.  It  is  the  supreme  good,  all-conceiv- 
able good,  and  good  inconceivable,  gathered  and  ex- 
pressed in  that  one  pregnant  word.  Life,  the  highest 
attribute  and  treasvire  of  God  himself,  the  light  of  the 
universe,  the  jewel  of  existence,  a  wealth  infinitely 
transcending  all  the  hidden  gems  in  the  world  of  mat- 
ter,—  and  ye  will  not  come  to  him,  that  ye  might  have 
life.  Amazing  and  confounding  in  its  mystery,  that 
your  will  not  should  make  the  difficulty  in  such  a 
case.  When  invited  out  of  a  dungeon  of  sin,  from  its 
filth  and  gloom,  to  rise  and  range  in  eternal  day,  and 
shine  with  seraphic  purity,  and  swell  with  heavenly 
ecstasies,  and  reign  as  a  king  enthroned,  is  it  so  that 
ye  will  not  come  to  Christ  for  this  ?  Is  it  not,  must  it 
not  be,  something  else  ?  Some  outward,  despotic  im- 
position it  is ;  or  some  moral  paralysis,  which  has 
entered  and  crept  through  my  being,  and  touched  every 
muscle  and  nerve  and  fibre  with  death  ;  this,  or  some- 
thing like  it,  which  holds  me  inexorably.  I  would, 
but  I  cannot.  My  eager  heart  springs  to  be  there,  but 
these  clogging  chains  will  not  let  me.  It  is  not  so.  If 
it  were  so,  you  would  be  comparatively  an  innocent 
man.  As  it  is,  you  are  a  greatly  guilty  man ;  guilty, 
because  Christ  has  come  and  spoken  to  you,  done  for 


AND  YE  WILL  NOT  COME  TO  ME.        185 

you  such  deeds  of  love,  uttered  such  words  of  kind- 
ness, wears  to  the  eye  and  heart  such  winning  traits 
and  most  benignant  aspects,  —  and  ye  will  not  come 
to  him. 

I  would  ask  each  hearer  to  look  at  and  consider  his 
depravity,  his  moral  state,  from  this  stand-point ; 
standing  before  this  text,  Ye  will  not  come  to  me,  to 
estimate  the  badness  of  his  heart  in  this  one  thing,  its 
stubborn  bent  through  all  to  keep  aloof  from  Ciu'ist. 
Only  ruin  and  death  can  be  reached  by  you  in  such  a 
course :  death  in  its  consummation  and  hopelessness, 
irremediable  and  intolerable,  carrying  ever,  as  you  will, 
a  more  than  mortal  sting  in  the  thought  that  the  ruin 
was  all  unnecessary ;  it  was  because  you  would  have  it 
so,  because  you  would  do  nothing  in  earnest  to  have 
it  different. 

But  I  would  charm  you,  rather,  and  draw  your 
thoughts  and  your  hearts  to  this  Divine  Helper.  If  I 
could,  I  would  put  on  other  attractions,  new  robes  and 
aspects  of  glory,  till  they  should  prevail  with  you. 
Tell  me  what  other  stroke  of  the  pencil  will  finish  and 
array  this  Jesus  to  your  liking.  Really,  is  there  any 
thing  wanting  ?  And  as  the  case  now  is,  as  the  Bible 
draws  the  heavenly  portrait,  is  there  any  reason  for 
not  consenting  to  come  to  him?  I  remember  once 
hearing  a  preacher  say,  that  he  had  often  put  the  ques- 
tion to  thoughtful  persons,  those  in  a  state  of  anxious 
inquiry,  requesting  them  to  ponder  it  and  return  a 
definite  answer.  What  reason  have  you  for  not  coming 
to  Christ?  And  the  result  commonly  was,  an  affecting 
conviction  that  they  had  no  reason ;  and,  often,  they 
came  at  once,  and  were  unspeakably  blessed. 

And  have  you,  hesitating,  halting  hearer,  have  you 


186  AND    YE    WILL   NOT    COME   TO    ME. 

any  reason  for  not  at  once  coming  to  Christ  ?  Do  you 
discover  in  him  an  object  of  stern  and  frightful  repul- 
sion, behold  a  darkening  brow,  and  eyes  of  flaming  ven- 
geance ?  See  you  a  rod  in  that  hand,  to  smite  down 
the  trembling  and  approaching  suppliant?  and  as  one 
and  another  draws  near  to  his  footstool,  see  you  them 
meeting  a  cold,  rejecting  thrust,  and  turning  back  all 
disheartened  ?  I,  too,  see  Jesus,  but  I  see  nothing 
like  this.  I  see  a  person  resplendent  with  uncreated 
glories,  an  aspect  most  sweetly  shining  witli  heavenly 
compassion,  a  heart  that  heaves  with  the  deep  swell- 
ings of  an  infinite  love,  eyes  that  have  wept  over  an 
obdurate  world,  saying.  If  thou  hadst  knozvn,  even  thou, 
at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy 
peace!  I  see  a  golden  sceptre  in  those  divine  hands; 
yea,  a  better  assurance  still,  I  see  the  scars  of  those 
wounds  he  received  when  he  was  smitten  for  our  trans- 
gressions. I  see  one  and  another  approaching  him, 
some  the  very  chief  of  sinners,  some  who  had  long 
despised  that  precious  Name,  all  with  a  burden  they 
do  wearily  bear ;  and,  as  they  come,  he  smiles  and 
takes  them  as  his.  Yes,  thou  blessed  Jesus,  even  all 
that  come,  not  one  turned  away  unblessed ;  not  one  cast 
unnoticed  out.  That  vast  and  shouting  throng  above 
say,  Not  one ;  and  the  wailing  voices  beneath  respond, 
Not  one.  The  archives  of  the  universe  have  no  such 
record  to  disclose.     No,  not  one. 

And  what  reason  have  you  for  not  coming  to  Christ, 
that  you  might  have  life  ? 


XYI. 

ESCAPE  FOR   THY  LIFE. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  they  had  brought  them  forth  abroad, 
that  he  said,  Escape  for  thy  life;  look  not  behind  thee,  nei- 
ther stay  thou  in  all  the  plain;  escape  to  the  mountain,  lest 
thou  be- consumed. —  Gen.  xix.  17. 

"\T  7E  have  in  this  and  the  connected  passage  of 
'  '  Scripture  the  account  of  Lot's  deliverance  from 
an  impending  destruction,  a  destruction  wliich  came 
upon  all  in  the  doomed  city  but  himself  and  those  con- 
nected with  him.  These  historical  facts,  embodying  the 
account  of  this  destruction  and  deliverance,  run  most 
instructively  parallel  with  another  class  of  facts, — 
those  pertaining  to  the  soul's  deliverance  from  its  ex- 
posure, its  doom  of  sin.  We  are  justified  in  this  use 
of  these  facts,  are  led  to  it,  not  only  by  the  striking 
resemblance  between  the  cases,  but  also  bv  our  blessed 
Saviour's  recurrence  to  them  in  a  like  use,  where  he 
■warns  us  from  the  fatality  which  befell  one  who  began 
to  escape,  but  did  not  persist  in  following  out  the  vehe- 
ment direction. 

Among  the  truths  pertaining  to  the  Christian  scheme 
of  redemption  and  its  applications,  forcibly  suggested 
by  this  historic  parallel,  are  the  following :  First,  that 
we  are  parts  of  a  place,  portions  of  a  race,  condemned, 


188  ESCAPE   FOR   THY   LIFE. 

doomed  to  be  destroyed ;  and  that,  abiding  with  the 
condemned,  as  they  are,  we  shall  be  destroyed  with 
them. 

Second,  The  fact,  all  but  universally  obtaining,  that 
people  are  satisfied  with  this  condition  of  condemned 
and  exposed ;  contented  to  be  with  such,  and  to  be 
such.  Even  after  they  are  warned,  and  made  to  see 
the  danger,  they  are  held  by  a  sort  of  enchantment  to 
the  doomed  company  and  spot.  So  was  it  witli  Lot ; 
when  told  that  the  destruction  was  just  ready  to  fall, 
and  urged  to  rise  and  flee,  he  lingered,  so  strangely 
hesitated  and  lingered,  that  he  would  have  been 
whelmed  with  the  rest,  but  for  the  gracious  violence 
which  those  mysterious  friends,  those  angels  of  mercy, 
used  with  him,  laying  hold  of  his  hand  and  the  hands  of 
his  family,  and  bringing  them  forth.  Left  to  ourselves, 
not  one  of  us  would  be  delivered.  By  grace  are  we 
saved,  by  a  divine  interposition,  a  good  power  of  God,  by 
a  gentle  force  which  comes  from  without ;  not  of  our- 
selves, in  no  case  of  ourselves,  ever  is  it  the  gift  of  God. 

Then  again,  and  especially,  the  refuge  provided, 
this  is  the  work  and  gift  of  God.  That  there  is  a 
refuge  to  souls  exposed,  is  clearly  brought  out  in 
this  historic  account.  To  Lot  and  his  company  the 
mount  was  designated,  there  they  would  be  safe.  For 
the  world  now,  over  which  the  desolating  storm  im- 
pends, there  is  a  refuge.  It  is  the  mount  where  the 
incarnate,  yet  immaculate.  One  bled  and  died,  —  he 
the  Refuge,  he  the  Covert  from  the  storm  and  the  tem- 
pest. Fleeing  thither,  ye  prisoners  of  hope,  hiding  in 
him,  confiding  in  him  as  your  Rock,  your  Fortress, 
you  are  safe.  When  the  destruction  comes,  it  shall 
not  touch  you.     You  shall  behold  the  destruction  of 


ESCAPE    FOR   THY   LIFE.  189 

the  wicked,  but  have  no  experience  of  it,  except  in 
vision.  There  is  therefore  noiv  no  condemnation  to  them 
which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  The  cnrse  of  the  law  can- 
not reach  them  ;  for  its  blight  and  its  burden,  so  far  as 
they  are  concerned,  came  upon  Him  who  stood  in  their 
place.  He  the  believer's  surety,  the  sure  defence  of 
all  who  flee  and  lay  hold  of  him  by  faith.  Who  is  he 
that  condemneth  ?  Ciirist  that  died  for  them,  will  he 
condemn  them  ?  He  who  has  taken  them  into  the 
shelter  of  his  grace,  will  he  hurl  them  back  to  be 
the  food  of  the  fire  and  the  storm  ?  His  word  is,  a 
word  written  in  blood,  that  he  never  will.  The  name 
of  the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower :  the  righteous  runneth  into 
it,  and  is  safe.  Who,  then,  can  declare  the  greatness 
of  the  gospel  provision,  the  goodness,  the  mercy,  there- 
in, such  a  refuge,  so  absolutely  sure,  and  from  such  a 
destruction  ?  We  can  only  say.  It  is  of  God.  He  so 
loved  the  world.  Greater  love  cannot  be  adduced.  It 
is  God's,  whose  thoughts,  nor  ways,  nor  works,  are  like 
ours. 

But  it  is  not  enough  that  there  is  a  refuge  provided, 
and  even  proffered.  The  fact  or  mere  existence  of  a 
refuge  will  protect  no  one.  The  fact,  the  mere  pro- 
vision of  the  gospel  remedy,  will  save  no  one.  We  are, 
then,  taught  this  further  by  the  historic  case  before  us, 
that  not  only  must  there  be  provision  on  the  Divine 
part,  there  must  also  be  effort  on  the  human  part. 
God  provided  the  mountain  and  pointed  the  way ;  Lot's 
salvation  could  be  secured  only  by  his  fleeing  thither. 
God,  in  the  gospel,  lifts  up  to  the  eye  of  our  faith  Cal- 
vary and  the  cross.  There  we  behold  him,  the  great 
Sufferer  for  our  sin ;  but  all  is  nought  to  us  unless  we 
repair  to  him.    There  is  laid  upon  all  the  responsibility 


190  .  ESCAPE    FOR    THY    LIFE. 

of  repairing  to  him.  This  responsibility,  the  actual 
doing  of  this,  is  necessary,  if  we  would  appropriate  and 
make  available  for  our  deliverance  his  work  of  suffer- 
ing that  we  might  be  delivered. 

The  indispensableness  of  this  effort  on  our  part  I 
here  take  for  granted.  There  is  no  time  to  adduce 
arguments  for  it :  and  it  is  strange  that  it  should  ever 
be  necessary,  a  disgrace  to  any  man  who  knows  the 
toil  and  sacrifice  of  Jesus  for  him  and  the  race,  a  dis- 
grace to  maintain,  or  even  desire,  a  freedom  from  toil 
and  solicitude  on  his  own  part,  a  shame  to  desire  to 
escape  ruin,  and  reach  heaven  without  striving  for  it. 
He  cannot  thus  reach  heaven,  whatever  he  may  desire 
or  think.  It  comes  upon  his  soul,  what  the  angel  said 
to  Lot,  Escape  for  thy  life;  look  not  behind  thee,  neither 
stay  thou  in  all  the  plain;  escape  to  the  7nountain,  lest  thou 
be  consumed.  Assuming  here  the  necessity  of  effort,  let 
us  turn  our  thoughts  a  moment  to  the  kind,  the  tone, 
of  effort  which  will  bring  us  to  the  secure  place,  and 
finally  to  the  blessed  home. 

There  is  one  generic  feature,  implied  in  the  words 
of  the  angel,  one  strong,  bold  character,  impressed 
upon  this  toil  which  we  are  called  upon  to  put  forth 
in  the  saving  of  our  souls,  namely,  this  Earnestness, 
Decision,  a  measure  of  Endeavor  which  shall  bring  to 
the  task  all  the  might  which  is  inherent  in  the  soul  or 
the  sinews.  If  we  analyze  this  generic  wholeness,  this 
full  heartiness,  this  utmost  mightiness  of  the  effort 
enjoined,  we  shall  find  that  it  i-esolves  itself  into  cer- 
tain specific  and  very  definite  qualities. 

One  is  immediateness,  an  effort  to  be  made  now. 
Those  words,  Escape  to  the  mountain,  are  singularly 
imperative  and  instant.    Do  it  now,  off  now.    And  the 


ESCAPE    FOR   THY    LIFE.  191 

reason  of  the  urgency  is  found  in  the  close  impending 
of  the  danger.  Already  the  sound  of  the  rushing  wind 
is  heard  ;  the  heavens  gather  blackness  ;  the  lightnings 
streak  the  clouds  ;  the  sulphurous  flames  descend  ;  the 
city  is  just  ready  for  a  burial  beneath  the  liquid  de- 
struction. With  such  a  voice,  and  such  signs  crowd- 
ing, could  those  in  the  peril  admit  any  thought  of 
lingering?  Their  endeavor  for  life,  it  must  be  at  once; 
and  those  who  found  life,  their  effort  was  at  once. 
On  the  same  point  gathers  now  the  full  weight  and 
solemnity  of  all  gospel  warning  and  precept.  It  is  to 
bring  to  pass,  if  possible,  the  rousing,  the  striving,  the 
believing,  now,  — this  now,  which  is  the  accepted  time, 
and  the  day  of  salvation  ;  the  next  to  come  made  lurid, 
perhaps,  by  the  descent  of  threatened  doom. 

Not  only  immediate,  also  this  :  unfaltering,  deci- 
sively and  ever  forward  ;  not  a  thought  or  a  look  or  a 
desire  backward  to  the  region  that  has  been  left,  to 
the  portion  that  awaits  destruction.  Look  not  behind 
thee.  What  wisdom  in  those  words,  not  behind  thee, 
for  there  is  enough  before  thee  to  fill  thine  eye  and  fire 
thy  heart.  The  mountain  is  before  thee ;  security, 
peace,  and  all  conceivable  good  are  before  thee.  Look 
that  way,  and  desire  will  strengthen  ;  and  the  purpose, 
the  soul's  resolve  to  be  there,  will  take  to  itself  solidity 
and  firmness.  Look  not  behind  thee,  for  in  that  case 
your  soul  will  begin  to  divide,  little  traitors  begin  to 
breed  in  its  depths.  Look  not  behind  thee,  for  the  good 
things  there  will  flash  their  enticements  upon  you  ;  old 
habits,  old  companions,  will  wake  the  counter  flame. 
The  very  thought,  not  to  say  act,  of  a  look  backward, 
is  always  ominous  of  failure.  Such  an  one  will  fail  for 
very  feebleness,  inasmuch  as  a  thought  or  a  look  be- 


192  ESCAPE    FOR   THY   LIFE. 

hind  casts  half  the  man  behind,  and  tlie  remaining 
half  must  be  impotent  for  the  contest  which  alone  can 
reach  the  mountain.  So  all  experience  has  shown ; 
so  the  Lord  pronounces,  pronouncing  him  deficient, 
who,  before  obeying  the  call  to  be  his  disciple,  asked 
that  he  might  take  one  more  look  upon  the  scenes  and 
friends  at  home.  And  the  Lord  put  his  seal  of  expro- 
bration  upon  the  whole  retreating  class,  in  those  abso- 
lute words.  No  man,  having  put  his  hand  to  the  plough, 
and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  Grod. 

Another  quality  of  the  effort  is,  that  it  be  continuous, 
persistent.  If  no  faltering,  then  certainly  there  will  be 
no  stopping,  no  stay  in  all  the  plain.  If  there  be  the 
look  back,  there  will  be  a  pause  in  the  progress,  a  hesi- 
tating whether  it  is  best  to  proceed.  On  no  possible 
account  may  there  be  this  for  a  single  moment.  Though 
your  eyes  look  right  onward,  and  yet  you  cease  to  press 
ever  straight  on,  on  to  the  mark,  on  to  the  mountain, 
it  will  not  avail  you,  will  not  save  you.  No  imaginary 
soundness  or  integrity  of  internal  condition  will  alone 
save  any  of  us.  Then,  there  was  the  outward  condition 
to  be  complied  with,  the  designated  spot  to  be  reached. 
And  in  the  gospel  there  is  no  dropping  down.  If  so,  we 
on  the  plain,  as  well  as  the  dwellers  in  the  city,  fall  be- 
neath the  fiery  ruin :  Remember  Lofs  wife.  To  have 
made  a  beginning,  done  some  things,  parted  with  some 
sins  ;  to  have  travelled  far  toward  the  mountain,  bear- 
ing the  marks  of  pilgrims,  and  in  their  good  company ; 
to  have  come  clean  up  to  the  line ;  a  pause  there,  brings 
down  as  heavy  a  perdition  as  a  pause  anywhere.  We 
are  nought  till  we  are  at  the  end.  We  must  reach  and 
embrace  hiiu  by  faith,  be  made  one  with  him  whose 
blood  flowed  on  Calvary,  then  are  we  safe.     No  power 


ESCAPE   FOR  THY   LIFE.  193 

in  the  universe  then  can  harm  us.  This  part  of  the 
counsel  uttered  by  tlie  angel  let  us  receive  and  resolv- 
edly heed  it,  stoutly  pressing  on,  loitering  for  nothing, 
to  pick  up  no  gem,  to  pluck  no  flower,  to  breathe  no 
fragrance  by  the  way,  ever  showing,  what  it  urges,  ear- 
nestness, progress,  indomitable  persistence,  an  agony, 
if  need  be,  to  reach  still  ahead,  to  plant  the  feet  on  the 
protecting  mount.  And  there  is  enough  to  justify  all 
this  instance  and  extreme  of  effort,  to  get  beyond  tlie 
pursuing  fire,  to  the  place  of  refuge  and  of  rest. 

It  may  be  well  here  to  turn  back  and  refresh  our 
memory  with  two  or  three  thoughts  sent  to  us  from  the 
mind  of  God.  The  great  thoughts  of  his  mind,  and 
the  great  facts  of  his  doing,  if  we  will  admit  them  upon 
our  souls,  will  doubtless  quicken  us  on  the  path  to 
safety.  I  turn  to  these  two  things ;  let  these  stand 
before  us  ;  let  them  live  in  our  faith,  and  come  upon 
our  souls  as  realities,  —  the  Wrath,  the  Refuge. 

God's  justice  pronounces  its  sentence  of  death  eternal 
upon  every  man  who  is  a  sinner ;  and  every  man  is  a  sin- 
ner. The  xoraili  of  Grod  is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all 
unrighteousness  and  ungodliness  of  men.  Tlie  day  of  the 
Lord  is  coming  with  wrath,  and  his  wrath  shall  burn 
like  fire ;  a  burning  will  it  be  which  the  Lord  Jehovah 
shall  kindle,  a  fire  proceeding  from  the  Lord  out  of 
heaven,  and  the  earth  shall  feel  it,  and  all  the  wicked 
be  whelmed  beneath  it.  Unto  this  the  earth,  with  its 
dependencies,  is  reserved,  kept  in  store,  reserved  unto 
fire,  against  the  day  of  judgment  and  perdition  of  un- 
godly men.  This  is  sure,  that  there  is  a  literal  and  an 
awful  meaning  for  us  in  those  Old  Testament  retribu- 
tions.  The  New  Testament,  for  our  warning,  points 
its  admonitory  finger  back  to  those  scenes  and  days. 

13 


194  ESCAPE   FOB   THY  LIFE. 

We  look  there,  and  behold  the  descending  and  engulf- 
ing flames  of  destruction.  We  open  and  read  here  of 
those  wicked  cities  and  the  dwellers  in  them,  as  set 
forth  to  lis  for  an  example,  suffering  the  vengeance  of 
eternal  fire.  We  may  put  between,  or  put  on  to  quench 
it,  our  modern  refinements  and  sentimentalism ;  but 
God  will  lay  upon  us  the  strength  and  terror  of  liis 
consuming  justice,  and  for  our  daring  impiety  in  this 
matter,  and  in  order  to  our  final  conviction  of  this  his 
awful  truth,  will  give  us  to  know  the  vengeance  of  eter- 
nal fire.  And  do  our  souls  shudder  and  shrink  away 
from  before  that  most  appalling  agent  of  doom  ?  If  the 
very  thought  unmans  us,  who  can  bear  the  reality  ? 
Who  among  us  shall  dwell  with  the  devouring  fire  ?  Who 
among  us  shall  dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  f  I  can 
conceive  of  no  imagery  more  fearful  than  this,  as  the 
symbol  of  doom.  I  can  think  of  no  other  phrase  which 
suggests  such  measures  and  intensities  of  penal  sorrow, 
so  soul-startling,  if  by  any  possibility  it  may  come 
down  upon  us.  Oh,  our  God,  thou  art  merciful,  and 
yet  thou  hast  writ  it,  The  vengeance  of  eternal  fire.  If, 
now,  there  is  such  a  storm  pressing,  and  sure  to  over- 
take us,  then  have  we  an  intei'est  in  that  other  fact 
presented,  the  mount  of  refuge,  where  we  may  go  and 
be  safe.  If  the  storm  is  of  sucli  a  character,  hanging 
over,  liable  to  come  down  ere  we  think,  then  there  is 
reason  in  the  cry,  Escape  for  thy  life.  And  if  we  felt 
it  to  be  so,  there  would  be  quickness  in  our  step  and 
our  press  for  the  mountain.  We  could  not  lie  down 
and  sleep,  for  fear  the  storm  would  bury  us  in  our 
sleep.  We  could  not  do  any  thing  else  till  we  had 
obeyed  the  momentous  summons.  Nor  could  we  move 
our  feet  in  any  other  direction  till  tliese  feet  stood  upon 


ESCAPE   FOR   THY   LIFE,  195 

the  mountain.  The  first  toil,  and  the  mightiest,  would 
be  for  the  kingdom  and  the  mountain.  We  must  believe 
the  penal  fire  as  tliough  we  saw  it,  feel  the  touch  of  it 
on  our  sinews,  and  have  a  little  taste  of  it  in  our  souls; 
then  let  our  souls'  welfare  fill  full  our  souls'  capacity 
of  interest,  press  to  the  utmost  our  souls'  extreme  of 
endeavor,  and  make  another  stretch  forward  and  es- 
cape for  our  life. 

Not  only  the  appalling  awfulness,  this  as  a  motive 
to  spur  the  activity  to  its  extremity,  not  only  this,  but 
that  other  fact,  the  provision  for  escape.  Escape  you 
may,  if  you  will.  The  path  and  the  mountain  are 
before  you.  Shall  not  this  blessed  truth  also  rouse 
us  ?  We  remember  when  our  thoughts  gathered  darkly 
around  the  company  on  board  that  mysteriously  delay- 
ing steamer.  Perhaps  friends  were  there  of  whom  we 
thought  as  under  the  doom  of  a  premature  and  obliv- 
ious death.  And  when  the  perils  environed,  and  the 
death  yawned  to  swallow  them,  can  we  doubt  that  all 
mortal  strength  or  prowess  could  do,  they  together 
did,  to  ward  off  their  awful  fate  ?  And  when,  at  length, 
Providence  revealed  a  refuge,  lifted  in  the  distance  the 
land  their  feet  might  safely  tread,  and  opened  the  way, 
and  a  voice,  overtopping  the  storm,  benignly  shouted, 
Behold  the  way,  Escape  for  thy  life,  can  we  doubt  the 
desperateness  of  their  endeavor  at  pump  or  oar  ?  And 
when  land  was  touched,  can  we  doubt  the  devouring 
greediness  of  their  feet,  as  they  sped  their  way  to  the 
spot  where  life  was  assured  to  be  theirs  ?  It  was  not 
the  peril  alone,  it  was  equally  the  deliverance  looming 
up,  which  made  them  contest  the  odds  with  destiny 
itself.  And  if  that  for  the  life  of  the  body,  what  shall 
it  be  for  the  life  of  the  soul  ?     And  Christ,  the  soul's 


196  ESCAPE   FOR  THY   LIFE, 

life,  stands  revealed,  the  way  to  him  all  high  and  open, 
and  all  terrors  and  all  encouragements  join  to  drive 
and  to  draw  to  him.  Thoughtful  one,  will  you  linger  ? 
Anxious  one,  filled  at  times  with  fears ;  restless  one, 
finding  no  peace,  will  you  delay  ?  Admonished  one, 
who  hast  seen  death's  work  at  your  side,  that  com- 
panion and  friend  stricken  and  laid  away,  this  for  your 
soul's  quickening  and  saving,  will  you  still  hesitate 
and  defer  ?  It  comes  from  heaven  and  earth  and  liell. 
Escape  for  thy  life.  The  angelic  and  the  glorified 
above,  the  voices  of  all  the  pure  of  earth,  severity  and 
goodness,  the  molten  and  treasured  fires,  and  all  benig- 
nant attractions  and  mercies,  say.  Escape  for  thy  life  ; 
look  not  behind  thee;  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  plain; 
escape  to  the  mountain^  lest  thou  he  consumed. 


XVII. 

THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSAEY. 

In  whom  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  minds  of  them 
which  believe  not,  lest  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ,  who  is  the  image  of  God,  should  shine  unto  them.  — 
2  Cor.  iv.  4. 

npHERE  are  good  influences  in  this  world,  at  the 
-*-  head  of  which  is  God.  There  are  also  bad  in- 
fluences, at  the  head  of  which  is  the  Devil.  In 
preaching,  we  often  speak  of  the  good  influences,  and 
admonish  men  not  to  defeat  them.  It  is  equally 
proper  that  we  speak  of  the  bad  influences  emanating 
from  the  wicked  agent  referred  to  ;  apprise  men  of 
their  reality  and  power,  and  urge  them  to  a  decisive 
resistance. 

The  wicked  agent,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  the  bad 
influences,  is  called  in  the  text  the  god  of  this  world. 
We  hesitate,  at  first,  in  applying  a  phrase  of  so  broad 
and  exalted  meaning  to  any  other  than  the  Supreme 
Ruler,  the  rightful  Lord  of  this  and  all  worlds.  But 
we  find  the  Saviour  alluding  to  the  same  agent,  say- 
ing. The  prince  of  this  tvorld  cometh,  and  hath  nothing  in 
me.  He  is  called  god  of  this  world,  and  prince  of  this 
world,  on  account  of  the  sway  which  he  exercises  over 
the  greater  part  of  it,  and  on  account  of  the  service, 


198       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

the  obedience,  and  homage,  which  are  generally  paid 
to  him,  rather  than  to  Jehovah.  Sometimes  the  agent 
in  question  is  called  The  Adversary^  as  arrayed  against 
all  divine  and  human  interests.  The  name  Satan, 
which  he  more  commonly  bears  in  the  Bible,  signifies 
an  adversary,  an  enemy,  an  accuser.  In  one  passage 
(Rev.  XX.  2)  there  are  four  terms  by  which  he  is 
designated  :  He  laid  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old  serpent, 
which  is  the  devil,  and  Satan,  and  bound  him  a  thousand 
years. 

I  go  into  no  argument  to  prove  the  existence  of  such 
a  being  as  is  described  in  the  language  just  quoted, 
or  the  fact  of  his  agency  in  our  world.  I  take  the 
doctrine  as  it  stands  revealed  on  the  sacred  page.  It 
is  revealed  through  the  whole  inspired  volume ;  as 
variously  and  luminously  as  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
existence  and  agency.  The  principles  and  style  of 
interpretation  which  would  blot  out  the  doctrine  of 
the  existence  of  the  Devil,  would  blot  out,  also,  that 
of  the  divine  existence.  Wlien  I  open  and  read  the 
holy  volume,  I  cannot  be  an  atheist.  I  am  compelled 
to  believe  in  the  existence  of  God,  the  universal 
Creator  and  moral  Governor.  At  the  same  time, 
and  with  equal  force,  am  I  compelled  to  assent  to  the 
existence  and  agency,  in  our  world,  of  Satan. 

From  the  same  book,  the  Bible,  which  teaches  us 
the  existence  of  this  great  fallen  spirit,  we  learn  also 
the  character  and  style  of  his  agency.  Of  these  I 
propose  to  speak  in  the  present  discourse,  namely,  the 
character  and  methods  of  the  Adversary's  operation. 
While  I  shall  not  confine  myself  to  the  one  main  point, 
or  power,  brought  to  view  in  the  text,  that  of  blinding 
men,  I  intend  to  keep  within  the  manifest  teachings 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.       199 

of  the  Bible  respecting  the  agency  in  question.  I 
mean  to  allege  nothing  against  the  wicked  one  to  the 
support  of  which  I  cannot  adduce  the  unqualified 
divine  warrant. 

I  shall  lead  you  to  consider  the  agency  of  the  Devil 
under  the  three  following  heads  :  — 

I.  —  His  intent  to  do  evil. 
II.  —  His  power  to  do  evil. 
III. — His  methods  of  doing  evil. 

I.  The  first  point,  his  intent  to  do  evil,  we  may 
soon  dismiss.  His  nature  is  represented  as  essential 
malignancy.  He  is  the  implacable  enemy  of  God  and 
man.  His  warfare  upon  the  human  race  is  intense 
and  universal ;  because  they  are  the  objects  of  re- 
deeming regard ;  because  God  is  meaning  to  raise  up 
a  great  multitude  from  this  fallen  race  to  heaven, 
there  to  occupy,  it  may  be,  the  very  mansions  out  of 
which  Satan  and  his  hosts  were  thrust.  We  can  easily 
conceive  the  bitterness  of  his  hate  against  the  whole 
scheme  of  redemption  ;  especially  against  its  Author, 
and  all  those  who  are  in  the  process  of  being  re- 
deemed. His  one  rabid  purpose,  according  to  the 
Bible,  is  to  defeat,  as  far  as  he  can,  the  scheme  of 
redemption,  and  secure  as  many  as  he  can  from  earth 
for  his  own  dominion  of  sin  and  death.  Hence  he 
is  called  murderer  from  the  hegimiing,  destroyer,  angel 
of  the  bottomless  pit.  Hence  his  one  great  business  of 
going  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour. 

II.  Our  second  point  is,  The  power  of  Satan  to  do 
mischief  and  destroy.  His  power,  unquestionably,  is 
very  great,  both  from  his  own  personal  capabilities, 
and   from   the   immense  number  of  evil  spirits   sub- 


200       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY, 

ordinate  to  him  as  their  leader.  We  are  taught  to 
conceive  of  Satan  as  the  head  of  a  spiritual  empire 
of  great  extent,  comprehending  within  itself  innu- 
merable subordinate  agents.  These,  who  were  origi- 
nally holy  intelligences,  swerved  from  their  allegiance 
to  the  blessed  and  only  Potentate,  on  which  account 
they  lost  their  first  estate.  Satan,  as  pre-eminent 
in  rank  and  dignity,  took  the  lead  in  the  revolt ; 
and,  on  account  of  this  pre-eminence,  continues  to 
rule  the  rest,  who  are  styled  his  angels.  What 
their  number  may  be,  it  is  vain  to  conjecture  ;  but 
when  we  reflect  on  the  magnitude  of  the  universe, 
and  the  extensive  and  complicated  agency  in  which 
they  are  affirmed  to  be  engaged,  we  shall  probably  be 
inclined  to  conjecture  that  their  number  far  exceeds 
that  of  the  human  race. 

In  this  view  we  easily  account  for  the  extent  of  his 
agency  in  tempting  and  destroying  the  human  race. 
In  the  Bible  there  seems  to  be  ascribed  to  him  a  sort 
of  ubiquity,  as  though  he  were  present  in  different 
parts  of  the  world  at  the  same  time.  We  are  not  to 
understand  that  he  himself  is  thus  present.  None 
but  the  divine  Being  has  this  power.  The  represen- 
tation is  based  upon  the  fact  that  he  has  such  immense 
numbers  under  him,  executing  his  great  schemes  of 
wickedness,  and  that  all  their  subordinate  works  are 
ascribed  to  the  will  and  efficiency  of  the  one  control- 
ling agent,  the  Devil.  The  power  of  Satan,  as  at  the 
head  of  so  vast  an  empire  of  wicked  spirits,  all  ready 
to  execute  his  crafty  plans  and  malignant  dictations, 
must  be  fearfully  great.  His  own  pre-eminence,  his 
towering  capabilities,  which  render  him  adequate  to 
such   a   control,  must   be  astonishing  and  complete. 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.       201 

How  comprehensive  and  mighty  tlie  intellect  of  Satan. 
There  is  ground  to  suppose  that,  of  created  minds  pre- 
vious to  the  revolt  in  heaven,  his  was  the  most  com- 
manding, the  greatest.  This  spirit,  the  highest  of  all 
the  hosts  of  heaven,  stood  next  to  the  uncreated  mind  ; 
and  from  this  very  pre-eminence  sprang  the  daring 
purpose  of  revolt,  and  the  rearing  of  anotlier  standard 
in  heaven.  To  this  original  and  astonishing  greatness 
of  endowment,  there  is  to  be  added  the  growth  of  many 
thousand  years.  This  growth,  considering  how  that 
mind  has  been  tasked  in  its  mighty  schemes  and  con- 
flicts, we  must  suppose  has  been  prodigious.  I  might 
refer  to  the  works  of  Satan  as  proof  of  the  wonderful 
strength  and  scope  of  his  intellect;  but  enough  has 
been  said  to  satisfy  every  believer  in  revelation,  that 
the  power  of  that  being,  who  is  warring  on  the  theatre 
of  this  world  with  the  Son  of  God, —  his  power  to  do 
evil,  from  his  own  intellectual  endowments  and  attain- 
ments, and  from  the  empire  of  wicked  spirits  which  he 
governs,  —  is  vastly,  fearfully  great. 

III.  We  are  now  prepared  to  enter  upon  our  third 
point,  namely,  his  modes  of  doing  evil,  of  bringing  de- 
struction upon  men.  "  The  methods  of  the  Devil." 
This  is  a  literal  translation  of  one  Scripture  phrase, 
rat,'  [isdodsiag  rov  Jia^olov.  Here  we  open  into  a  great 
field.  We  cannot  go  into  minute  description  and 
detail.  The  time  will  allow  us  merely  to  indicate 
some  of  the  general  schemes  and  manoeuvres  resorted 
to  by  the  Adversary  for  the  corrupting  and  destroying 
of  men.  The  great  object  of  the  Adversary  manifestly 
is  to  prevent  the  effect  of  the  gospel  upon  the  minds  of 
men.  Truth  is  Christ's  grand  instrument  in  all  his 
works   of  reformation   and    redemption.      The   Devil 


202       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

keeps  it  off  and  keeps  it  out  as  far  as  he  can.  The 
text  so  informs  us.  If  our  gospel  he  hid,  it  is  hid  to 
them  that  are  lost  (that  is,  lost  in  sin),  in  whom  the  god 
of  this  ivorld  hath  blinded  the  minds  of  them  which  believe 
not.  And  why  blinded  ?  Lest  the  light  of  the  glorious 
gospel  of  Christ,  who  is  the  image  of  God,  should  shine 
unto  them.  What  the  precise  nature  of  this  blinding 
is,  and  what  the  way  in  which  it  is  effected,  we  are  not 
informed  by  the  inspired  writer ;  nor  is  there  time  to 
go  into  any  inquiries  at  this  point.  Tlie  fact  (and 
with  this  we  are  chiefly  concerned)  that  the  Adversary 
does  blind  the  minds  of  men  is  unequivocally  asserted  ; 
and  the  effect  is  asserted  with  equal  clearness.  A 
man,  or  body  of  men,  so  blinded,  do  not  see  or  appre- 
hend the  evidence,  the  reality,  the  force  of  truth.  The 
first  step  being  to  get  and  keep  the  minds  of  men  dis- 
possessed of  truth,  a  kindred  and  auxiliary  measure  is 
to  keep  those  minds  possessed  of  error.  Error  is  the 
grand  instrument  of  all  the  Devil's  achievements,  as 
truth  is  of  Christ's  ;  and  his  character  and  name  are 
in  perfect  keeping  with  this  instrument.  For,  says 
Christ,  he  is  a  liar  and  the  father  of  it.  In  the  Re  vela 
tion  it  is  said,  he  deceiveth  the  whole  world.  We  have 
seen  that  he  is  god  of  this  world,  that  he  blinds  men. 
His  blinding,  then,  is  on  a  large  scale,  by  getting  in 
false  religions  and  systems  of  error.  It  is  in  this  way, 
rather  than  by  direct  instigation,  that  he  is  represented 
as  working  in  the  children  of  disobedience.  Here  we 
see  the  strength  and  craft  of  that  mighty  intellect.  By 
these  comprehensive  manoeuvi-es,  by  extending  and 
establishing  false  religions,  by  getting  accepted  great 
swaying  superstitions  in  some  sections  ;  in  others,  the 
polluting  and  destroying  doctrines  and  rites  of  pagan- 


THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY.       203 

ism,  — he  is  enabled,  safely  to  his  interest,  to  withdraw 
his  solicitude  from  a  very  large  majority  of  the  human 
family.  In  those  parts  he  knows  that,  without  any 
special  efforts  or  care,  all  will  be  allegiant  to  him  while 
those  great  schemes  of  falsehood  remain. 

The  next  manoeuvre  or  method  is,  where  there  must 
be  Christianity  in  some  form,  to  get  in,  if  possible,  a 
corrupt  form.  He  introduces  some  great  religious 
error,  and  it  goes  for  Christianity,  though  there  be 
not  a  particle  of  the  spirit  and  power  of  religion  in  it. 
These  various  corrupt  and  fundamentally  erroneous 
forms,  suited  to  different  orders  of  mind,  tastes,  and 
degrees  of  cultivation,  are  embraced  ;  and  just  so  far 
as  the  Adversary,  by  blinding,  can  establish  men  in 
these  errors,  all  is  deemed  safe :  he  has  no  concern 
about  those  individuals  so  long  as  the  errors  are 
adhered  to.  Here  let  me  add,  it  has  been  well  re- 
marked that  religious  error  is  at  issue  with  religious 
truth  at  this  point ;  namely,  of  the  punishment  of 
wicked,  unregenerate  men  in  the  future  world.  God 
has  declared,  and  placed  it  on  record.  The  soul  that 
sinneth,  it  shall  die.  The  great  Adversary  early 
began  to  say,  and  has  been  busily  saying  all  along 
down  the  line  of  time.  Ye  shall  not  surely  die. 
Here  we  have  the  great,  standing,  stereotyped  lie 
of  the  father  of  lies.  Upon  this  one  text,  which 
he  took  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  he  has  been  dis- 
coursing ever  since,  and  with  it  filling  up  his  fiery 
dominions  with  spirits  from  earth.  "  Be  prayerless 
men  ;  be  dishonest  men ;  be  profane  men ;  Sabbath- 
breakers,  thieves,  liars,  adulterers,  —  continue  such, 
go  out  of  the  world  such,  ye  shall  not  die  ;  surely  ye 
shall  not  be  very  gravely  punished ;  it  shall  be  well 


204       THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY. 

with  you  in  the  end."     How  comforting,  but  oh,  how 
destroying. 

For  the  sake  of  clearness  of  view  and  impression, 
let  us  come  down  to  an  individual  case.  The  Devil,  as 
a  skilful,  practised  seducer,  aims,  in  the  first  place,  at 
the  destruction  of  principle,  right  religious  principle ; 
if  possible,  to  get  truth  out  of  the  mind,  and  error  in 
its  place.  If,  by  his  deceptive,  blinding  power,  he  can 
only  induce  a  person  to  deny  the  existence  of  God,  or 
the  inspiration  and  truth  of  the  Bible,  or  the  doctrine 
of  atonement  or  regeneration,  or  of  the  future  endless 
punishment  of  the  wicked,  and  keep  to  that  denial,  he 
is  satisfied.  He  knows  that  the  irreligion,  the  im- 
penitence, and  the  eternal  ruin  of  that  person  comes 
along  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  in  regions  where 
gospel  truth  is  proclaimed,  it  cannot  be  kept  out  of  the 
minds  of  many  by  all  the  diligence  and  blinding  power 
of  the  Devil  and  his  angels.  Blessed  be  God,  the  great 
Promulgator  and  Patron  of  this  truth  is  stronger  than 
the  patron  of  error.  This  gospel  truth,  where  faith- 
fully proclaimed,  does  enter  the  minds  of  some. 
Sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  and  backed  by  an 
almighty  power,  it  cuts  its  way  through  the  steel  and 
the  adamant.  To  change  the  figure,  the  incorruptible 
seed  enters,  is  lodged  in  the  soul,  and  begins  slightly 
to  work.  The  sinner  begins  to  feel,  to  be  alarmed,  to 
be  moved.  At  this  juncture,  the  effort  of  the  Devil  is 
to  catch  it  away.  We  have  this,  most  explicitly,  on 
the  authority  of  Christ.  Said  he,  not  in  figure,  but  in 
the  literal  explaining  of  figure.  Those  by  the  ivayside 
are  they  that  hear  ;  then  cometh  the  Devil,  and  taketh 
away  the  word  out  of  their  hearts,  lest  they  should  believe 
and  be  saved.     In  addition  to  the  authority  of  Clirist, 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.       205 

we  have  the  evidence  of  our  observation.  We  see  this 
thing  done ;  we  see  men  seriously  impressed  ;  they 
are  under  the  incipient  workings  of  truth,  —  when  we 
are  grieved  and  astonished  to  learn  that  it  is  all  gone. 
They  see  something,  or  hear  something,  or  think 
something,  and  their  impressions  go  away  with  the 
suddenness  almost  of  lightning.  It  is  the  Devil 
snatching  away  the  word ;  and,  beyond  question,  he 
is  wonderfully  busy  in  this  way  in  seasons  of  religious 
revival.  But  he  cannot  always  succeed  in  getting 
away  the  word.  In  the  breasts  of  many  it  is  inserted 
too  deep  ;  it  adheres.  Where  this  is  the  case,  his  next 
effort  is  to  induce  delusion.  While  the  truth  works, 
he  manoeuvres  to  conduct  the  process  so  that  it  shall 
terminate  in  a  false  hope.  Here  he  comes  forth  in  a 
new  garb,  even  as  an  angel  of  light.  By  this  we  are 
to  understand  that  he  puts  on  the  appearance  of  good- 
ness ;  he  is  even  religious ;  and  helps  others,  if  not  in 
becoming  so,  at  least  in  appearing  so.  He  operates  on 
the  imagination  ;  presents  forms  and  visions  which 
excite  and  exhilarate ;  injects  passages  of  Scripture, 
such  as  Thy  sins  he  forgiven  thee,  with  the  interpreta- 
tion that  they  came  right  down  from  God,  and  are 
God's  words  to  the  burdened  soul.  The  burdened 
soul  believes  it,  and  leaps  forth  with  an  assurance  of 
forgiveness.  The  hope  in  these  cases  is  built,  not 
upon  the  fact  of  gracious  exercises  in  view  of  divine 
truth,  but  upon  the  fact  that  some  remarkable  vision 
or  dream,  or  some  passage  of  Scripture,  came  suddenly 
and  unsouglit  to  the  mind.  The  Adversary,  doubtless, 
has  many  methods  of  bringing  about  a  false  hope  ; 
and  a  great  point  is  gained  when  he  has  done  it ; 
indeed,  two  or  three  points.      He  has  succeeded  in 


206       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

keeping  another  soul  from  Christ,  when  convinced  of 
his  need  of  Christ,  and  even  feeling  his  way  after  him. 
By  the  delusion,  the  spurious  experience,  he  has  made 
the  final  destruction  of  that  soul  altogether  more  pro- 
bable. Finally,  he  is  enabled  to  show  that  his  schemes 
of  error  will  bring  about  conversions,  and  religious 
experience,  about  as  well  as  what  is  called  the  truth. 
Thus  he  brings  forward  his  own  works,  almost  his  own 
miracles  sometimes,  in  order  to  give  currency  and  per- 
manence to  his  errors. 

I  should  like  to  pause,  and  speak  in  this  connection 
of  the  wonderful  versatility  of  the  Devil.  We  do  not 
comprehend  —  certainly,  we  do  not  properly  consider 
—  the  great  variety  of  things  he  can  do,  or  help  men 
to  do ;  and  we  ought  to  understand  that  he  is  just  as 
ready  to  do  religious  things  as  wicked  things,  if  he 
can  as  effectually  accomplish  his  malignant  purposes 
thereby.  His  borrowed  form  is  manifestly  his  favorite 
one,  and  the  most  to  be  feared.  I  do  believe  he  in- 
flicts far  deeper  injuries  upon  the  souls  of  men  as  an 
angel  of  light,  than  as  an  angel  of  darkness  ;  destroys 
more  effectually  and  more  to  his  mind,  as  the  fair- 
mouthed  and  still  seducer,  than  as  the  open-mouthed 
and  roaring  lion. 

But  Satan  cannot  defeat  all  truth  by  catching  it 
away,  or  by  bringing  it  to  a  delusive  result.  The 
divine  Power  makes  it  end  in  the  thorougli  conversion 
of  many  souls.  They  come  forth  into  the  light ;  they 
stand  firm  upon  the  rock.  This  brings  us  to  another 
stage  and  field  of  the  great  Adversary's  operations. 
His  strongest  and  most  definite  efforts  are  made  upon 
those  who  stand  forth  as  professed  Christians ;  even 
upon  those  whom  he  knows  Christ  stands  pledged  to 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.      207 

protect.  In  this  view,  we  behold  the  astonishing 
audacity  of  the  Devil.  We  may  be  astonished  at  it, 
when  we  remember  how  he  assailed  in  three  artful 
modes,  and  tried  to  throw  down,  the  Son  of  God  him- 
self. What  disciple  may  hope  to  escape,  when  the 
Lord  himself  was  the  object  of  his  wiles  ?  It  is  very 
evident  from  the  Bible,  that  the  specific,  individual, 
and  very  concentrated  assaults  of  the  Adversary  are 
made  upon  those  who  are  known  to  the  world  as 
Christians.  Against  these  are  employed  his  most  in- 
genious devices  ;  for  these  he  spreads  his  most  artful 
snares ;  at  these  are  cast  his  fiery  darts  ;  by  which  we 
may  understand  the  injecting  of  wicked,  blasphemous 
thoughts,  the  inflaming  of  the  imagination,  the  en- 
kindling of  the  unholy  passions,  and  making  them 
burn  as  if  set  on  fire  of  hell.  He  peeled  and  desolated 
Job,  in  order  to  compel  him  to  curse  his  Maker.  He 
incited  David  to  number  Israel,  a  crime  which  brought 
down  the  desolating  sword  of  God.  He  desired  to 
have  Peter,  that  he  might  sift  him  as  wheat ;  and  but 
for  the  prayer  of  Christ,  he  would  have  had  and  sifted 
him.  He  entered  into  Judas,  one  of  the  chosen 
twelve,  and,  tin'ough  tlie  passion  of  avarice,  persuaded 
him  to  sell  Christ  to  his  enemies.  He  put  it  into  the 
heart  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  disciples  who  probably 
had  thus  far  run  well,  to  lie  to  the  Holy  Ghost.  These 
are  specimens  of  the  direct  and  fiery  assaults  of  Satan 
upon  the  professed  friends  of  Christ.  His  object  is  to 
overthrow  Christians  ;  to  make  them  sin  and  fall,  in 
order,  first,  that  he  may  disgrace  them  individually, 
and,  if  possible,  pluck  them  out  of  the  hands  of  Christ, 
and  destroy  their  souls.  What  a  triumph,  if  he  can 
only  get  one  of  Christ's  little  ones  under  his  foul, 


208       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

cloven  feet !  His  second  and  greater  object  is,  that  he 
may  disgrace  the  cause  of  Christ ;  that  he  may  bring 
discredit  upon  the  truth  of  Christ.  His  name  means 
calumniator.  He  is  called  in  the  Revelation,  the  accu- 
ser of  our  brethren.  The  sinning  of  his  own  subjects  is 
done  very  much  out  of  sight.  The  deeds  of  wicked 
men  are  deeds  of  darkness.  He  is  willing  that  they 
should  remain  deeds  of  darkness.  Not  so  when  the 
Christian  sins.  The  Adversary,  unquestionably,  often 
instigates  the  crime  ;  and  then  he  manages  to  have  it 
brought  out,  and  held  up  in  mid-heaven  for  all  men  to 
look  at.  It  is  the  sin  of  a  Christian.  "  Don't  you 
see,"  he  says,  "  that  this  spiritual,  praying  religion 
makes  people  no  better  ?  They  are  all  hypocrites,  or 
nearly  all.  The  soundest  morality,  the  real  practical 
goodness,  after  all,  is  with  those  who  make  no  preten- 
sions to  this  sort  of  experience."  One  or  two  such 
arguments  in  the  hands  of  this  arch  deceiver  are 
enough  to  satisfy  multitudes,  in  every  community,  that 
spiritual  religion  is  all  a  pretence  ;  that  men  are  just 
as  good,  and  just  as  safe,  without  being  born  again,  as 
with  it.  They  lie  down  and  sleep  on  the  easy  pillow 
of  this  delusion.  It  is  so  easy,  and  so  many  new 
opiates  are  administered,  that  they  sleep  quietly,  bru- 
tishly  almost,  up  to  the  hour  of  their  sleeping  in 
death,  and  their  waking  in  eternity  as  deluded,  un- 
regenerate  men,  there  to  lie  down  under  the  dreadful 
wrath  of  God. 

Such  are  some  of  the  methods  of  the  Devil.  The 
object  in  all  seems  to  be,  to  stand  between  the  gospel 
and  a  world  of  lost  souls  ;  and,  by  blinding  their 
minds  and  obscuring  the  truth,  prevent,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, all  salutary  results.     The  subject  we  have  been 


THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY.       209 

discussing  suggests  various  topics  of  remark,  on  some 
of  which  we  will  dwell  for  a  few  moments.  Though  a 
dark  subject,  it  sheds  light  on  some  points  which 
otherwise  seem  nearly  inexplicable. 

1.  In  the  first  place,  it  furnishes  an  explanation  of 
the  fact,  that  men,  capable  of  reasoning,  often  reason 
so  strangely,  and  come  to  such  unaccountable  conclu- 
sions in  matters  of  Christian  faith  and  practice.  The 
fact  of  such  reasoning  is  frequent  and  notorious.  We 
observe  that  clear-headed  men,  wliose  mijids  on  all 
other  subjects  move  straight  and  sure  as  a  demonstra- 
tion in  geometry,  when  they  come  upon  some  great 
truth  of  God,  involving  unbounded  interests,  even 
their  own  interminable  destiny,  exhibit  altogether 
another  order  and  style  of  intellectaal  movement. 
They  are  not  able  to  see  the  strongest  points  that  ever 
stood  forth  in  effulgent  light  for  the  mind's  appre- 
hension. Tiiey  cannot  walk  without  staggering  and 
stumbling  in  the  high,  broad,  illumined  path  which  the 
Holy  Ghost  has  marked  out  for  our  certain  arrival  at 
truth.  How  does  it  come  to  pass  ?  Clear-headed, 
straight-minded  everywhere  else  but  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  religion,  how  is  it  that  they  move  so  here  ? 
I  confess  I  am  utterly  confounded  on  this  point,  till  I 
read  in  the  Bible  that  the  god  of  this  world  hath  blinded 
the  minds  of  them  which  believe  not.  This  is  the  expla- 
nation which  God  gives  of  this  matter  ;  and,  as  we  can 
get  no  other  in  any  quarter,  may  we  not  be  permitted 
to  rest  in  this  ?  This  does  account  for  the  anomaly. 
It  is  owing  to  a  blindness  preternaturally  induced  upon 
the  mind,  keeping  out  the  light  of  the  glorious  gospel  of 
Christ. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  doctrine  of  a  retribution  to 

14 


210       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

come,  already  referred  to.  God  declares  that  tliere  is 
a  hell,  and  that  it  is  the  place  where  fallen  angels 
and  incorrigible  men  are  to  be  for  ever  punished.  In 
the  clear  and  strong  assertion  of  this  truth,  God  has 
put  human  language  to  its  utmost  limit  and  energy  of 
expression.  If  there  has  been  any  failure  to  express 
it,  it  is  a  failure  in  the  power  of  language,  not  in  the 
purpose  of  the  speaker.  Language,  as  employed  in  the 
Bible,  we  repeat,  has  again  and  again  done  its  utmost 
on  this  subject.  In  addition,  wicked  beings,  the  Devil 
and  his  angels,  have  been  permitted  to  come  up  thence 
in  demonstration  of  the  fact,  that  there  is  a  place  of 
torment,  and  that  God  is  punishing,  and  will  for  ever 
punish,  there  his  rebellious  subjects.  Yet,  after  all, 
multitudes  will  have  it  that  there  is  no  such  ])lace,  no 
such  thing.  In  accounting  now  for  this  very  prevalent 
unbelief,  on  a  point  where  testimony  is  so  perfect,  and 
evidence  is  so  made  to  flame  and  to  blaze,  we  are  forced 
to  admit  the  fact  of  a  positive  and  thick  blindness  upon 
the  minds  of  these  men.  It  is  not  only  a  blindness : 
there  seems  in  connection  a  contracting  and  depressing 
of  the  mind.  There  are  men,  we  find,  who  can  take 
large  views  on  other  subjects,  can  discourse  admirably 
on  human  law  and  government :  "  There  must  be  au- 
thority here,  penalty  here  ;  both  inflexibly  maintained  ; 
no  government,  no  order,  no  security  without  it."  Very 
well :  but  these  same  persons  of  great  and  comprehen- 
sive minds,  civilians,  magistrates,  who  have  just  been 
reasoning  so  admirably  on  human  law  and  govern- 
ment, the  moment  they  touch  on  matters  connected  with 
divine  government,  change  the  entire  style  of  argument: 
"  Authority  is  nothing ;  penalty,  no  need  of  it."  A 
wavering,  womanish  weakness  is  made  to  pervade  the 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.       211 

whole  divine  administration  :  it  is  represented  as  an 
administration  conducted  throughout  on  the  most  im- 
becile principles  ;  principles  so  imbecile,  that  it  would 
be  impossible  in  the  strength  of  them  to  govern  suc- 
cessfully and  progressively  a  conununity  of  half  a 
dozen  children.  And  yet  these  comprehensive  minds 
seem  to  suppose  that  the  great  Monarch  of  the  universe 
can,  on  these  same  principles,  govern  the  literal  im- 
mensity of  his  dominions.  What  does  it  mean  ?  What 
means  this  childish,  this  inane  logic,  in  connection 
with  such  minds  ?  Only  one  thing  solves  the  mystery : 
the  blinding,  narrowing,  depressing  influence  of  the 
god  of  this  world.  And  thus  he  maintains  his  bad 
pre-eminence  of  god  and  destroyer  of  this  world. 

2.  My  second  remark  is  to  suggest  a  reason  why  the 
Devil  disseminates  so  widely  disbelief  in  his  own  exist- 
ence and  agency.  It  is  remarkable  to  what  an  extent, 
even  amongst  those  who  receive  the  Bible,  there  is  this 
disbelief.  God's  revelation  is  as  clear  on  this  subject 
as  on  any  other.  The  doctrine  of  Satanic  existence 
and  agency  is  asserted  in  every  variety  of  name  and 
form.  It  is  a  tissue  running  most  intimately  clean 
through  the  Bible.  According  to  the  divine  teaching, 
it  is  a  terrible  power  and  agency  ;  and  yet  multitudes, 
who  profess  to  believe  the  Bible,  believe  nothing  about 
it.  Others,  who  pretend  to  do  so,  do  not  more  than 
half  believe  it.  With  the  majority,  the  whole  tremen- 
dous subject,  on  which  God  in  his  Word  is  so  serious, 
is  matter  of  jest  and  sport ;  something  to  be  witty 
upon  and  laugh  about.  How  can  we  account  for  these 
things  ?  In  this  way :  it  is  one  of  the  devices  of  the 
Adversary ;  what  he  himself  brings  about ;  what  he 
knows  to  be  necessary  to  his  most  successful  opera- 


212       THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY. 

tions.  He  operates,  we  have  seen,  very  much  by 
stratagem.  We  read  of  the  wiles  of  the  Devil,  of  the 
depths — that  is,  the  hidden  plans  —  of  Satan.  We  read 
repeatedly  of  the  snares  of  the  Devil.  As  a  great  fowler, 
spreading  his  net  for  the  entrapping  of  souls,  he  knows, 
and  so  may  we,  that  his  success  depends  upon  his 
keeping  out  of  sight.  The  Bible  says  truly,  Surely  in 
vain  the  net  is  spread  in  the  sight  of  any  bird.  The 
fowler  conceals  his  person,  and,  on  the  same  principle, 
the  Devil  conceals  his.  While  men  are  not  aware  of  his 
presence,  while  they  are  stoutly  denying  his  existence, 
he  is  seizing  upon  them.  While  they  are  jeering  at 
his  name,  and  making  themselves  merry  at  his  doings, 
he  grapples  them  ;  and,  ere  they  are  aware,  brings  them 
to  that  world  where  the  laughers  now  will  weep  and 
wail  and  gnash  their  teeth  for  ever. 

3.  It  is  obvious  from  our  subject,  and  the  whole  teach- 
ing of  the  Bible,  that  the  Christian  has  a  great  labor 
and  duty  to  perform  in  order  to  stand.  It  is  to  the  high- 
est degree  important  that  he  do  stand,  both  for  his  own 
sake  and  for  the  sake  of  Christ's  cause  and  truth. 
But  how  shall  he  stand  with  such  powers  against  him  ? 
He  wrestles  not  with  flesh  and  blood  (not  with  merely 
human  enemies),  but  against  principalities,  against 
powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.  They  are 
evil  angels,  spiritual  foes,  the  legions  of  darkness 
that  are  against  him.  They  are  malignantly  deter- 
mined in  their  onset.  Tliey  mean,  if  possible,  to 
overthrow  him :  they  work  by  wile  and  craft :  they 
mean  to  do  it,  before  he  is  aware  of  danger.  What 
can  the  Christian  do  ?  The  apostle  instructs  him 
what  to  do.    Let  him  take  unto  himself  the  whole  armor 


THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY.       213 

of  God,  that  Tie  may  he  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day, 
and,  haviny  done  all,  to  stand.  Stand,  therefore,  disciple 
of  the  Lord,  having  your  loins  girt  about  with  truth,  and 
having  on  the  breast-plate  of  righteousness ;  and  your 
feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of  peace  ; 
above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be 
able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  iviched.  And 
take  the  helmet  of  salvation,  and  the  sivord  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  the  word  of  Crod.  This  last,  Christ  wielded  to 
the  utter  discomfiture  of  the  tempter.  In  each  in- 
stance, the  appeal,  "  it  is  written,"  silenced  and  con- 
founded, and,  in  the  end,  drove  him  away.  Let  it  be 
remembered,  that  this  whole  armor  is  to  be  worn,  and 
employed  with  prayer,  the  weightiest  consideration  of 
all.  Whoever  does  this,  praying  always,  as  he  con- 
tends, with  all  prayer  arid  supplication  in  the  spirit, 
and  watching  thereu7ito  with  all  perseverance,  will  be 
able  to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  Devil,  especially 
if  he  keeps  fast  to  Christ ;  upon  Christ  as  his  founda- 
tion, under  Christ  as  his  protector,  he  is  perfectly  safe 
from  all  this  hostile  array.  Were  it  tenfold  greater, 
he  need  not  be  disturbed.  It  would  still  be  true,  that 
more  are  they  that  be  for  him  than  they  that  be  against 
him.  We  are  sometimes  astonished  at  the  ease  with 
which,  according  to  the  Bible,  the  Christian  may  turn 
back  this  terrible  foe  of  his  salvation.  It  is  only, 
Resist  the  Devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you.  The  efficacy 
is  all  in  Christ :  the  power  is  there,  before  which  the 
foe  quails  and  recedes.  One  with  that  Saviour,  faithful 
in  the  adherence,  you  shall  abide  in  safety,  you  shall 
prevail  over  the  arrogant  and  plotting  enemy.  Stand- 
ing in  Christ,  you  may  strike  a  blow  with  your  frail 
arm  of  dust,  which  shall  stun  and  prostrate  the  Arch- 


214       THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY. 

fiend.  But  never  forget,  a  single  moment,  that  your 
entire  safety  and  final  triumph  depend  upon  your 
abiding  in  Christ. 

In  view  of  the  number  and  strength  of  the  Chris- 
tian's foes,  it  is  no  great  marvel  that  he  is  sometimes 
overtaken  and  overthrown.  The  Adversary  has  only  to 
take  him  when  off  his  guard,  when  he  has  laid  aside  his 
armor,  or  when  separate  from  his  Lord,  and  he  makes 
him  comparatively  an  easy  prey.  This  leads  us  to  re- 
mark, in  the  fourth  place, — 

4.  That  the  fact  that  some  who  are  not  Christians 
stand,  while  some  by  their  side,  who  are  known  as 
Christians,  fall,  is  no  ground  of  special  self-complacency 
on  the  part  of  tlie  former.  There  are  some,  in  almost 
every  religious  community,  who,  though  not- religious 
men,  are  exceedingly  amiable  in  their  spirit,  and  cor- 
rect in  their  way  of  life.  They  appear  even  better 
outwardly,  more  sober  and  consistent,  than  some  pro- 
fessors of  religion,  who,  it  is  hoped,  are  Christians, 
though  with  many  infirmities.  These  persons  mean 
by  their  correct  demeanor  nothing  further  than  to  live 
as  upright  men  and  good  citizens.  But  the  Adversary, 
we  may  safely  presume,  has  another  design  to  accom- 
plish by  them ;  the  same  design,  indeed,  that  he  has 
in  the  fall  of  the  professed  Christian,  —  namely,  to  help 
on  his  great  business  of  blinding ;  to  give  augmented 
strength  and  vividness  to  the  impression  that  men  can 
live  correctly  enough  without  religion ;  that  they  do, 
on  the  whole,  live  as  well  without  as  with  it.  The 
case  standing  thus,  we  ask.  What  possible  inducement 
can  the  Adversary  have  to  assault  this  fair  man  of  the 
world  ?  What  is  to  be  gained  ?  Possession  ?  He  has 
that  already.     The  fall   of  the  individual  ?     In  that 


THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY.       215 

there  would  be  loss  rather  than  gain.  He  knows  better 
than  to  make  an  assault  there.  He  makes  it  rather 
where  he  has  lost  possession,  and  where  much  is  to  be 
gained  to  his  cause  by  an  overthrow.  Hence  it  is  that 
the  one  is  borne  down  upon  by  the  prince  of  the  power 
of  the  air,  with  the  purpose  of  crushing  him ;  the  other 
is  even  upheld  externally  by  the  same  power.  The 
one  is  shot  into  with  deadly  and  fiery  weapons ;  the 
other  is  unmolested  by  any  such  missiles.  The  Ad- 
versary is  interested  in  the  overthrow  of  the  one,  that 
he  may  bring  a  soul  into  jeopardy,  and  Christ's  truth 
into  disrepute :  he  is  interested  in  the  upright  standing 
of  the  other,  that  he  may  make  it  appear  that  men 
can  live  even  better  without  religion  than  with  it. 
Certainly,  in  this  view,  the  worldly  man  has  notliiiig 
to  boast  of.  He  stands  externally,  because  the  Devil 
is  willing,  even  desirous,  that  he  should.  There  never 
was  a  greater  mistake  than  in  supposing  that  the  Ad- 
versary is  interested  in  having  his  servants  act  with 
outward  and  abominable  viciousness.  It  is  not  so : 
his  devices  are  not  so  gross  as  that  would  imply.  He 
cares  not  how  correct  and  even  grave  the  manners  of 
unregenerate  men ;  the  graver  the  better,  if  the  heart 
only  remains  unsubdued,  still  linked  to  his  interest 
and  kingdom.  He  cares  not,  we  believe,  how  mor- 
ally, how  soberly,  and  even  religiously,  men  go  in  the 
path  to  death,  if  they  will  only  consent  to  go  in  that 
path.  He  will  be  satisfied  with  any  order  of  belief  or 
disbelief,  any  style  of  conduct,  any  subordinate  arrange- 
ment, which  will  allow  to  him  his  usurped  supremacy 
of  god  of  this  world. 

5.  Allow  me,  before  closing,  to  dwell  a  moment  on 
the  dark  picture  before  us,  for  the  purpose  of  Christian 


216       THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY. 

incitement.  It  is,  indeed,  a  dark  picture,  and  has  been 
for  successive  centuries.  Contemplate  it.  A  world  of 
minds,  each  of  uncounted  value,  under  the  merciless 
and  deadly  despotism  of  the  Adversary  of  God  and 
man  ;  a  world,  too,  that  has  been  marked  with  the  feet 
and  wet  with  the  tears  and  the  blood  of  the  Son  of 
God.  It  is  Christ's  by  creation  and  preservation  ; 
Christ's,  too,  by  the  purchase  of  his  own  mysterious 
agony ;  and  still  the  Adversary  holds  under  his  foul 
sway  far  the  greater  portion  of  it.  We  know,  indeed, 
it  is  by  sufferance  on  the  part  of  Clirist,  and  that  good 
will  be  brought  out  of  this  evil.  We  know,  also,  that 
the  ascendency  is  kept  by  craft  and  deception  on  the 
part  of  the  Adversary.  He  manages  to  corrupt  and 
obscure  Christ's  truth ;  to  defeat,  in  a  measure,  its 
operation  ;  even  to  blot  it  out  and  bury  it  up.  He  gives 
currency  and  efficacy  to  all  kinds  of  monstrous  super- 
stition and  falsehood ;  spreads,  like  huge  and  black 
palls,  his  blinding  and  damning  systems  over  nations 
and  continents.  Let  the  Christian  look  at  these  facts, — 
almost  an  entire  world  lying  in  the  Wicked  One ;  the 
Devil  with  his  thousands  where  Christ  has  his  tens ; 
and  the  vile  way  this  vile  ascendency  is  maintained,  — 
and,  it  seems  to  me,  the  view  cannot  help  to  move  his 
spirit,  and  give  new  intensity  to  his  prayer,  that  God 
would  come  down  and  relieve  an  oppressed  world,  and 
give  the  kingdom  to  Him  whose  right  it  is  to  reign, 
and  in  whose  sceptre  there  is  life  and  peace.  The 
deep  wrong,  the  utter  outrage  of  the  case,  as  it  now 
stands,  is  enough  to  awaken  to  indignation  all  holy 
feelings,  and  nerve  to  extremest  exertion  all  sanctified 
energies,  that  truth  may  be  more  rapidly  diffused,  and 
more  quickly  do  its  work,  and  the  darkness  recede,  and 


THE  METHODS  OF  THE  ADVERSARY.       217 

sill  be  done  away,  and  the  miserable  captives  of  Satan 
become  the  freemen  of  the  Lord.  Can  the  Christian 
be  satisfied,  can  he  remain  supine,  when  he  beholds 
an  overwhelming  proportion  of  the  race,  for  whom  the 
Redeemer  died,  against  the  Redeemer,  —  on  the  side 
of,  and  doing  service  to,  the  Destroyer  ?  No  :  not  if 
there  abide  within  him  a  single  particle  of  the  vivid, 
working,  aggressive  spirit  of  a  Christian. 

But  it  is  not  all  gloom.  There  is  hope  to  incite.  We 
know  the  scene  is  to  be  changed.  Complete  redemp- 
tion is  decreed.  The  promise  has  been  uttered,  the 
power  pledged.  Christ  is  the  wielder  of  that  power. 
He  has  appeared  for  this  one  simple  purpose,  to  destroy 
the  works  of  the  Devil.  He  has  begun  to  destroy  these 
works :  he  will  complete  what  he  has  begun.  And 
how  will  his  glory  shine  forth  in  the  final  achievement 
of  this  destruction  and  of  a  world's  deliverance.  The 
Christian,  then,  labors  in  hope.  Let  hope  warm  his 
heart  and  wake  up  his  energies,  and  let  him  do  some- 
thing worthily  in  this  advancing  enterprise  of  mercy. 
If  he  takes  but  one  soul  oflf  from  the  empire  of  dark- 
ness, and  sets  it  over  to  the  empire  of  light  and  love, 
he  does  a  noble  work.  Each  disciple  of  the  Lord  may 
do  more  ;  may,  if  he  will,  win  many  from  rebellion  to 
allegiance.  Then  would  Christ's  kingdom  rapidly 
spread :  he  would  ere  long  come  into  possession  of  the 
world  he  made ;  and  peace  would  pervade  all  its  bor- 
ders, and  the  voice  of  gladness  and  thanksgiving  be 
heard  in  all  its  dwellings. 

In  conclusion,  we  ask  all  unconverted  persons  to 
consider  the  nature  of  their  position.  Let  it  be  re- 
membered, that  there  are  but  two  standards  in  this 
world,  but  two  great  moral  sides  ;  that  of  Christ  and 


218       THE  METHODS  OP  THE  ADVERSARY. 

that  of  the  Devil.  On  one  side  or  the  other  all  mankind 
are  arrayed  ;  either  with  Christ  or  with  Satan.  It  is 
an  appalling  consignment,  I  know,  which  thus  sets  all 
men,  who  are  not  at  heart  living  Christians,  over  on 
the  side  of  the  Adversary.  The  Bible  does  it:  we 
must  do  it,  or  go  against  the  plainest  teachings  of  this 
book.  According  to  the  voice  that  speaks  here,  no 
matter  what  the  standing  of  iinregenerate  men,  what 
their  outward  character  and  appearance,  they  are  the 
subjects  of  the  Wicked  and  Malignant  One ;  they  are 
doing  his  work ;  they  are  preparing  to  share  his  prison 
and  torments.  We  ask  the  sinner,  if  he  is  contented 
with  this  relation  ?  Is  it  a  worthy  position  for  an  intel- 
ligent creature  of  God  ?  Is  it  a  fitting  service  for  those 
noble  powers  ?  The  Devil's  drudgery  is  it  not,  rather, 
infinitely  dishonorable  and  degrading  ?  And  the  end, 
the  award,  who  can  look  at  it?  The  unquenchable 
fire,  the  horrid  companionship.  Who  can  meet  and 
bear  such  a  doom  ?  Consider  these  things,  and  look 
away  from  all  this  infamy  and  woe,  to  that  other  side 
of  truth  and  love  which  still  invites  your  allegiance. 
Yield,  this  hour,  to  that  attracting  goodness  ;  submit 
to  that  rightful  authority ;  become  a  member  of  that 
kingdom  which  is  destined,  in  its  consummation,  to  fill 
the  earth  and  the  universe  with  glory  and  praise. 


XVIIT. 

THE  DEATH   OF  ELISHA. 

Now  Elisha  was  fallen  sick  of  his  sickness  whereof  he  died. 
And  Joash  the  king  of  Israel  came  down  unto  him,  and 
wept  over  his  face,  and  said,  0  my  father,  my  father  !  the 
chariot  of  Israel,  aiid  the  horsemen  thereof!  —  2  Kings 
xiii.  14. 

TT  7"E  have  here  the  dying  scene  of  the  prophet  Elisha. 
'  '  Of  the  material  surroundings  nothing  is  said. 
They  were  doubtless  humble ;  for  the  man  here  pros- 
trated had  no  earthly  possessions.  As  he  lived  and 
wrought  for  God,  sheltered  and  sustained  by  charity, 
so,  at  the  end,  when  arrested  by  disease,  where  he  was 
taken,  there  he  lay  and  was  ministered  unto.  He  was  in 
extreme  old  age,  having  spent  more  than  sixty  years 
in  the  prophetic  service ;  sixty  years  from  the  time 
when  he  left  the  plough  in  obedience  to  the  call  of 
Elijah.  There  was  one  mourner  present,  —  Joash  the 
king  of  Israel,  now  in  the  eleventh  year  of  his  reign, 
who  came  down  and  wept  over  him ;  a  plaintive,  but 
not  a  sincere  mourner.  He  had  received  the  stern 
reproofs  of  the  man  of  God,  but  refused  to  hearken 
to  his  word ;  and  his  tears  now  are  those  of  regret 
that  he  is  to  lose  so  powerful  a  defender  of  his  king- 
dom. How  often  had  the  realm  been  saved  by  the 
counsel  and  the  miraculous  might  of  this  now  dying 


220  THE    DEATH    OF    ELISHA. 

man.  The  king,  doubtless,  remembered  the  times 
when  this  prophet  sent,  not  once  nor  twice,  to  his  pred- 
ecessor on  the  throne,  word  of  the  approach  of  the 
enemy,  their  exact  position  and  design  ;  remembered 
when  he  smote  a  whole  army  with  blindness,  then  led 
them  right  into  the  midst  of  the  whole  Israelitisli 
force,  and  there  opened  their  eyes  to  see  that  they  were 
all  captives,  and  to  suppose  they  were  all  dead  men  ; 
and  they  would  have  been  dead  men  but  for  the  merci- 
ful overruling  of  the  prophet.  The  king  remembered, 
also,  the  time  when  Samaria  was  closely  besieged,  and 
famine  and  destruction  seemed  inevitable  to  all ;  when, 
by  the  counsel  and  the  word  of  this  prophet,  complete 
deliverance  came  ;  one  single  night,  and  the  foe  was 
not.  Again  and  again  had  this  dying  man  been  the 
savior  of  Israel.  The  cause  of  the  king's  sorrow  in 
prospect  of  the  prophet's  departure  was,  evidently, 
that  the  great  bulwark  of  defence  was  about  to  leave 
them.  Hence  those  words  he  uttered,  My  father^  my 
father !  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof! 
in  which  he  acknowledges  that  the  prophet  had  been  a 
defence  of  Israel,  equal  to,  yea,  beyond,  the  defence  of 
chariots  and  horsemen.  It  is  noticeable  that  these 
are  the  same  words  which  Elisha  used  when  Elijah 
was  visibly  taken  up  in  the  chariot  of  fire  and  by  the 
horses  of  fire.  It  may  be  that  that  visible  appearance 
suggested  to  Elisha  this  symbolization  of  the  prophet 
Elijah  in  the  character  of  defender  of  his  country ;  so 
that,  as  he  saw  his  friend  and  father,  who  surpassed 
the  might  of  kings,  thus  gorgeously  passing  away,  he 
broke  forth,  My  father,  my  father!  and  this  phrase,  so 
grandly  expressive,  passed  into  a  proverb ;  and  this 
king  Joash  seized,  and  uttered  it  as  he  hung  over  the 


THE   DEATH   OF   ELISHA.  221 

dying  bed  of  Elislia.  It  is  possible,  that  he  knew  it 
as  Elisha's  utterance  in  witnessing  the  departure  of 
Elijah,  and  thought,  what  more  fitting  words  for  him 
called  to  witness  the  departure  of  Elisha.  This,  cer- 
tainly, is  true,  in  the  case  of  us  who  read  the  account  of 
Elisha's  death ;  they  suggest  to  us  the  other  departing 
scene,  when  Elijah  went  up.  There  is  a  resemblance 
between  the  two,  or  the  same  terse  words  could  not 
have  applied  as  descriptive  of  both.  The  resem- 
blance is  here :  that,  in  each  of  the  cases,  it  is  the 
departure  of  a  righteous  man  from  the  world ;  and 
that  both  were  distinguished  for  their  deeds,  for  the 
high  office  they  bore,  and  the  signal  service  they  ren- 
dered to  the  church,  the  world. 

There  is  also  a  difference  in  the  cases,  arising  from 
the  difference  in  God's  treatment  of  the  two  at  the 
end  of  their  respective  courses.  Elijah  did  up  rapidly 
his  mighty  and  splendid  deeds,  and  at  once,  on  the 
close  of  them,  went  off  by  a  rapt  and  luminous  depart- 
ure, was  taken  up  living,  in  the  fulness  of  his  strength. 
Elisha  performed  his  great  and  visible  works  in  the 
first  fifteen  years  of  his  appearance,  during  which  time 
he  was  the  observed,  the  honored,  and  the  feared  of 
kings,  and  of  all  the  people.  At  the  close  of  this 
magnificent  series,  of  this  visible  and  awful  useful- 
ness, he  was  not  called  up  home,  but  was  sent  into 
obscurity,  to  pass,  so  far  as  the  record  declares,  forty- 
five  years  in  unnoted  retirement.  Then  he  is  placed 
before  us,  that  we  may  see  the  seemingly  forgotten 
old  man  languish  and  die.  And  we  see  him  going 
out  of  tlie  world  in  tlie  humbling  and  painful  mode 
of  other  men.  He  fell  sick  of  his  sickness  whereof  he 
died.     This  phrase  is  descriptive,  evidently,  of  a  pro- 


222  THE   DEATH   OF   ELISHA. 

cess  of  slow  decay.  Life,  in  his  case,  ebbed  away  and 
sunk  from  view,  under  the  weight  of  infirmity  and 
disease. 

In  view  of  these  so  notable  facts,  I  wish  to  state  the 
great  truth  or  principle  involved  here  ;  namely,  God's 
sovereign  hand  in  the  adjustment  of  circumstances 
when  his  servants  die.  I  say  sovereign  hand,  because 
there  are  often  comparative  scenes  in  the  death  of  his 
servants  which  cannot  be  explained  by  recurring  to 
their  lives.  Often  are  there  distinctions  made,  which 
we  cannot  account  for  as  having  their  foundation  in 
the  character  and  career  of  usefulness.  Had  character 
and  usefulness  been  made  the  basis  for  awarding  the 
respective  passages  out  of  the  world  of  these  two  men, 
there  would  not  have  been  that  sort  of  discrimination. 
There  would  not  have  been ;  for  the  man  of  the  lan- 
guishing and  painful  departure  was,  so  far  as  the  record 
shows,  the  greater  achiever  of  the  two.  Elisha  sur- 
passed Elijah  in  the  number  and  power  of  his  miracu- 
lous works.  His  request  to  his  ascending  master  was, 
that  a  double  portion  of  his  spirit  might  rest  upon  him- 
self. A  huge  request ;  but  it  was  to  be  so,  if  he  should 
see  his  master  when  taken  from  the  earth.  He  did  see 
him,  and  the  sign  was  fulfilled  ;  the  double  portion  was 
his,  and  appeared  afterward  in  multiplied,  if  not  in 
mightier,  deeds.  Then  when  we  come  to  character  in 
the  two  cases,  Elisha  seems  to  have  a  clear  advantage. 
We  discover  a  point  of  weakness  in  Elijah's  character ; 
a  weakness  at  a  vital  point ;  for  at  one  time  his  faith 
faltered,  his  confidence  in  God  all  but  gave  out. 
Nothing  of  the  kind  appears  in  Elisha.  It  might  have 
been,  and  he  spared  the  record ;  but  not  likely.  If 
any  omissions  occur  in  the  Bible,  they  are  not  of  the 


THE   DEATH   OF    ELISHA.  223 

faults  of  tliG  men  who  figure  on  tliose  pages ;  these 
are  pretty  certainly  told:  but  none  told  of  Elisha.  Not 
only  is  there  this  cleanness  of  the  record  in  his  case : 
as  we  read  the  history,  we  feel  him  to  be  the  most 
perfect  character,  feel  our  hearts  won  to  him  as  not 
in  the  other  case.  It  is  fear  in  the  other  case ;  here  it 
is  love,  a  reverent  and  affectionate  admiration.  But, 
leaving  the  character  and  the  conspicuous  deeds,  if 
we  come  to  usefulness,  —  make  a  comparison  between 
the  two  in  this  regard,  —  the  later  prophet  rises  the 
higher  ;  from  the  fact  that  he,  probably,  exceeded 
even  in  mighty  deeds,  clearly  in  character,  and  very 
much  in  the  term  and  the  variety  of  service.  It  is 
a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  a  person's  usefulness 
is  in  proportion  to  the  conspicuity  and  remarkableness 
of  his  actions ;  that  the  great,  the  notable  deeds,  those 
tliat  take  the  attention  and  call  out  the  admiration,  are 
the  specially  productive  ones.  So  people  are  ever 
judging.  The  man  that  is  cutting  the  figure,  moving 
all  tongues,  and  marshalling  all  type  in  comment,  lie 
is  the  man  that  is  doing  the  good.  Bringing  all  eyes 
to  see,  and  all  ears  to  hear,  he  is  the  man  mightiest 
in  influence  ;  as  was  Elijah  pretty  much  through  his 
whole  term  ;  as  was  Elisha  the  first  fifteen  years  of  his 
term.  These  naturally  come  first  in  the  order,  the 
notable,  the  achieving.  They  did  with  Elisha.  They 
did  also  with  Christ.  His  ministry  opened  with  the 
notable.  Though  there  were  miracles  to  the  end,  they 
were  mainly  near  the  beginning.  The  attesting  came 
first.  The  teaching,  the  shining,  the  suffering,  after- 
ward. We  say,  emphatically,  the  course  or  the  life 
that  wants  the  quiet,  teaching,  shining,  suffering 
part,  wants   the   completeness,   fails  of  the   greatest 


224  THE   DEATH   OF   ELISHA. 

measure  of  usefulness.  "What,  in  comparison,  would 
Christ's  have  been  with  only  the  miraculous,  the  splen- 
did public  deeds ;  having  done  these,  had  he  gone  up 
in  one  of  them,  the  nights  of  prayer,  the  sweat  of 
Gethsemane,  the  blood  of  Calvary  wanting?  It  is 
hard,  indeed,  to  pass  from  the  achieving  and  acclaimed 
publicity  to  the  oblivious  line  of  checks  and  sorrows. 
Not  so  was  Elijah  called,  and  therein  was  he  want- 
ing. It  was  so  with  Elisha  ;  and  herein  his  complete- 
ness, his  advantage  over  his  predecessor.  And  can 
we  doubt  that  those  forty-five  years  of  unnoticed  ser- 
vice were  years  of  pre-eminent  usefulness,  though 
through  all  he  was  simply  the  holy  liver,  the  retired 
teacher,  the  master  of  prophets  ?  Such,  now,  were 
the  respective  courses  of  these  two  men,  their  char- 
acters, and  probable  usefulness  :  Elisha,  at  least  on 
full  equality,  in  some  respects  the  superior.  What 
ground  find  we  for  that  difference  in  their  departures, 
that  God  should  grant  to  one  a  triumphant  departure, 
without  tasting  death  ;  the  other  made  to  traverse  the 
entire  path  of  weary  and  oppressive  decay?  How 
instructive,  how  suggestive  the  fact,  that  the  prophet 
higher,  completer  in  character  and  in  service,  met  the 
slow  languishments  of  the  death. 

The  question  forces  itself  upon  us  here,  Are  we  sure 
that  the  first,  the  brilliantly  ascending  prophet,  had  all 
the  advantage  in  the  mode  of  his  departure  ?  This  ad- 
vantage, I  think,  had  Elisha  ;  his  was  the  more  useful 
departure  from  life,  a  lingering.  Christian  deatli,  more 
impressive  and  influential  than  a  translation.  Do  you 
say,  tlie  translation  shows  an  instance  of  the  spirit's 
life  and  of  the  body's  rising  ?  We  reply,  the  ebbing, 
sinking  breath  of  the  dying  prophet,  taken  in  connect 


THE  DEATH   OP  ELISHA.  225 

tioii  with  that  exultant  hope  within,  rising  above  the 
decay,  tells  equally  and  more  eloquently  of  death  abol- 
ished, of  the  spirit's  perpetual  life  ;  every  ebb  and  pang 
is  a  fresh  argument  of  the  life.  We  call  to  mind  those 
symbolic  arrows  shot  from  the  window  of  this  prophet's 
dying  chamber  ;  and  we  believe  more  convictive  arrows 
went  from  this  humble  yet  radiant  death  scene,  con- 
vincing men  of  the  truth,  the  life,  the  immortality, 
than  from  the  pageant  of  the  other  prophet's  ascen- 
sion. There  was  not  only  power  in  his  death,  but  also 
power  in  him  as  dead  ;  life,  a  germ  of  life,  even,  in  the 
dead  and  mouldering  bones.  These  take  down  into  the 
grave  with  them  the  pledge  of  the  rising.  The  dead 
prophet  taught  this,  the  rising,  as  effectually  as  the 
translated  prophet  taught  that  there  is  life  in  the 
bones.  He  taught  it  by  imparting  life  to  a  dead  man 
suddenly  cast  into  his  sepulchre.  The  instant  that 
dead  man  touched  the  inhumed  prophet,  he  sprung 
back  into  vigorous  life,  a  significant  symbol  and  in- 
stance of  the  body's  rising.  Precious  truth,  the  decree 
goes  down  into  the  grave  with  you,  imbedded  in  your 
bones,  that  your  body  shall  come  up  again  ;  and  live 
again,  fashioned  after  Christ's  glorious  body,  according 
to  the  ivorking  whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things 
unto  himself. 

But  let  us  recur  a  moment  to  that  resurrection  scene 
in  the  cave,  as  setting  forth  the  soul's  life,  —  the  Chris- 
tian's power  after  death  to  give  life,  impart  spiritual 
rising  to  the  dead  in  sin.  It  has  proved  in  the  case  of 
many  a  wicked  man  that  the  holy  living  and  the  peace- 
ful dying  of  some  Christian  friend  failed  at  the  time  to 
atfect  him ;  but  afterward,  as  he  remembered  that  life, 
that  death,  as  the  sileut  thought  passed  back  to  the 

15 


226  THE   DEATH   OF   ELISHA. 

scene,  entered  the  place,  and  touched  the  now  buried 
form,  then  came  the  searching,  life-giving  efficacy.  So 
is  it  that  the  memory  of  the  good  man,  years  after  he 
has  gone,  will  operate  to  bring  up  souls  from  death. 
The  honor,  the  privilege,  the  productiveness  of  tlie 
Christian  life,  who  will  not  aspire  to  live  it  ?  And  who 
desire  to  be  excused  from  the  lowly  and  the  suffering 
close,  when  we  see  that  the  vitality  and  the  efficacy 
lies  very  much  in  this  part  ? 

How  forcibly  is  it  set  before  us  in  these  Scripture 
instances,  that  the  manner  of  the  dying  is  no  sure 
criterion  of  the  character  and  life.  One  may  go  off  in 
rapture  and  shouts  and  songs  ;  another  hardly  getting 
beyond  the  penitent  moan,  —  God  be  merciful,  oh, 
help  mine  unbelief;  and  the  last  shall  stand  at  the 
judgment  brighter  and  higher  than  the  first. 

We  learn,  also,  that  the  pains  and  decays  of  death 
are  not  always  appointed  as  a  discipline.  It  doubtless 
holds  elsewhere  as  here,  that  the  lingering  and  the 
suffering  way  out  of  life  is  prescribed  for  the  maturer 
and  more  perfect  of  tlie  two.  The  weary  and  the  sor- 
rowing way  being  ordained  in  order  to  bring  out  a 
testimony,  into  this  is  taken  the  person  who  is  so  full 
of  faith,  so  ripe  in  character,  so  unquestioned  in  his 
godliness,  that  the  arrows  will  fly  from  his  cliamber, 
invisible  but  mighty,  to  convince  and  subdue  the  un- 
believers. They  see  the  argument  in  the  dying,  and 
confess  there  is  an  endless  living  for  the  righteous. 

This,  then,  is  clearly  taught ;  namely,  the  reasonable- 
ness of  submission,  when  ourselves  or  our  friends  are 
made  to  pass  the  ordeal  of  death,  in  peculiarly  hard 
and  trying  circumstances.  For  the  righteous  there  is 
a  good  in  death,  and  a  privilege,  and  an  honor  even, 


THE   DEATH   OP   ELISHA.  227 

in  the  sharpest  severities  of  dying.  Behold,  and  con- 
sider ;  it  is  a  loving  hand  that  leads  into  the  deep 
gloom  and  implants  the  terrible  agony.  Behold,  con- 
sider this,  and  be  still  when  the  pang  is  laid  on  thee 
or  thine. 

Look  to  this  instance  and  learn  the  certainty  of 
death.  Each  of  us  may  fix  on  this  conclusion,  death 
is  sure  to  come  to  me.  Its  bitter  experience  I  know  I 
must  traverse.  For  here  is  a  man,  this  prophet  of  old, 
who  succeeded  to  a  translated  master,  as  good,  as  useful, 
as  eminent  as  he,  and  yet  death  became  his  lonely  lot. 
Here  a  man  whose  breath  breathed  life  into  others, 
and  his  sepulchred  bones  were  pregnant  with  life  to 
one  buried  with  him,  yet  death  smote  him  down  and 
held  him  fast. 

This  mortal  certainty,  then,  admit  it  as  awaiting  you ; 
though  scores  of  years  between,  yet  soon  it  will  come. 
Try  to  live  as  one  who  realizes  this  doom  of  death,  and 
that  more  awful  fact.  After  death  comes  the  judgment. 
All  now  and  on,  and  then  and  for  ever  through  the 
eternal  ages,  depends  upon  your  being  ready,  that  you 
prepare  betimes  to  meet  your  God  ;  depends  upon  your 
repentance,  your  faith  in  Christ,  your  righteous  life. 
Do  this,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  you.  Refuse,  and 
you  go  the  other  way, — where  the  prophet  did  not  go. 


XIX. 

THE   SON  OF  MAN  IS   COME   TO   SEEK  AND   TO   SAVE. 

For  the  Son  of  man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost.  —  Luke  xix.  10. 

'T^HE  language  of  Scripture  is  very  simple,  yet  full 
-*-  of  meaning.  What  can  be  more  simple  than 
this  language  of  the  text :  For  the  Son  of  man  is 
come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  ivhich  ivas  lost.  Here 
redemption  is  described.  Redemption  :  a  great  work 
accomplished  by  a  great  Being ;  that  Being,  the  Son 
of  man.  This  is  one  of  his  humble  titles,  remind- 
ing us  that  the  mode  of  his  coming  was  by  human 
descent,  that  he  was  the  babe  of  Bethlehem,  born  of  a 
woman ;  and  yet  the  Lord  himself,  in  the  use  of  this 
humble  phrase,  utters  a  passage  which  most  clearly 
and  unequivocally  declares  his  Divinity :  And  no  man 
hath  ascended  up  to  heaven  hut  he  that  came  down  from 
heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man  which  is  in  heaven.  This 
Son  of  man  who  came  down  from  heaven,  and  was  then 
speaking  and  acting  in  the  seeming,  yea,  the  reality  of 
a  man  on  the  earth,  was  also,  at  the  same  instant,  in 
heaven ;  a  fact  to  be  explained  only  thus :  God  alone 
is  everywhere  present ;  therefore  Christ  is  God  as  well 
as  man  ;  as  God,  he  was  at  the  same  instant  in  heaven 
and  on  earth. 


THE   SON   OP   MAN   IS   COME   TO    SEEK,   ETC.       229 

The  Son  of  man  is  come  ;  we  have  here  announced  a 
great  coming.  He  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost;  we  liave  here  a  great  object.  It  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  tlie  two  parts  of  tlic  text  are  in  keep- 
ing. A  great  coming,  therefore  a  great  object.  It  is 
legitimate  to  argue  the  greatness  of  the  object  from  the 
greatness  of  the  coming,  and  this  I  proceed  to  do. 
The  first  topic  being,  — 

I.  The  greatness  of  his  coming. 

That  it  was  a  great  and  glorious  coming  appears 
from  the  fact  that  so  mucli  is  said  of  it  along  the  whole 
line,  and  in  all  the  representations,  of  Scripture.  It 
began  to  be  spoken  of  four  thousand  years  before  it 
took  place.  It  is  the  grand  theme  of  prophets  in  every 
age.  Not  only  the  words,  but  all  the  types,  of  Scrip- 
ture have  a  finger  significantly  pointing  to  the  Being  in 
whom  they  were  all  to  find  their  realization.  Poetry 
and  song  brought  forward  and  tasked  their  highest 
conceivings,  produced  and  arranged  their  divinest 
images,  to  honor  the  personage  who,  at  the  appointed 
time,  was  thus  to  appear.  Language,  in  its  largest  capa- 
bilities, was  tasked  in  the  pregnant  service.  Unto  us  a 
child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given:  and  the  government 
shall  be  upon  his  shoulder :  and  his  name  shall  be  called 
Wbnderfid,  Counsellor,  The  mighty  Grod,  The  everlasting 
Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace.  Thus  the  expectation  of  the 
world  for  these  four  thousand  years  was  stretched  and 
held  to  Him  who  was  to  appear.  And  when  the  event- 
ful moment  arrived,  and  the  predicted  One  came  from 
heaven  to  assume  our  nature,  heaven  itself,  for  a  little 
season,  broke  over  the  separating  line,  and  threw  its 
wondrous  music  on  the  air,  giving  forth  words  worthy 
of  the  angelic  strains  in  which  they  were  announced  : 


230  THE   SON   OF   MAN   IS   COME 

Grlory  to  Crod  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  goodr 
ivill  to  men.  How  natural,  now,  to  suppose  that  the 
Being  who  was  to  come,  the  Being  to  whom  all  this 
referred,  was  a  notable  being. 

We  legitimately  make  out,  further,  the  greatness  of 
Him  who  came,  from  the  very  language  used  in  the 
text :  The  Son  of  man  is  cojne  to  seek  and  to  save.  This 
implies  his  pre-existcnce  ;  not  that  he  was  created,  that 
he  might  be  a  Saviour,  but  he  came :  implies  not  only 
pre-existencc,  but  voluntariness.  He  came  to  be  a  ser- 
vant ;  was  not  a  servant  in  his  original  state,  but  equal 
with  the  Father.  Se  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost.  In 
those  plain  words  you  really  have  the  divinity  of  our 
Lord.  You  have  pre-existence,  which,  if  you  will  trace 
back,  and  follow  up  to  its  fountain,  will  bring  you  to 
Deity  as  its  origin.  Reasoning  minds  have  found  it 
so ;  hence  reasoning  minds,  wlio  have  wished  to  run 
clear  of  our  Lord's  divinity,  have  in  the  majority  of 
instances  discarded  his  pre-existence,  because  they 
knew  where  the  admission  of  this  would  lead  them; 
namely,  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Son's  equality  with  the 
Father,  according  to  that  most  stubborn  text,  In  the 
beginning  tvas  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  Grod, 
and  the  Word  was  God.  The  Word  was  God,  and  made 
all  things  that  were  made ;  and  the  Word  was  made 
flesh,  and  dioelt  among  us.  Though  equal  originally, 
he  voluntarily  made  the  sacrifice :  he  emptied  himself, 
and  took  the  form  of  a  servant.  How  justly  now  may 
we  predicate  greatness  of  that  coming,  in  view  of  the 
elevation  and  glory  of  the  Being  who  came  ;  the  glory 
inherent ;  the  glory  he  had  with  the  Father ;  the  glory  he 
laid  off  for  a  season ;  and,  also,  of  the  condescension 
of  that  coming ;  the  depths  to  which  he  stooped,  that 


TO   SEEK    AND   TO    SAVE.  231 

he  might  touch  us  aud  take  us  up.  It  is  all,  iudeed, 
a  great  proccediug ;  nothing  finite,  nothing  human 
about  it  in  the  plan  or  the  execution :  it  is  all  God- 
like, marked  with  the  infinite.  We  feel  it  to  be  so : 
our  souls  so  testify  and  say,  as  we  read  and  ponder 
iipon  these  things.  And  what  was  it  for  ?  We  answer, 
it  was  for  a  great  object.  Here  we  reach  our  second 
point;  namely, — 

II.  The  greatness  of  the  object,  argued  from  the 
greatness  of  the  coming.  A  greater  coming  could  not 
be  projected  or  conceived ;  the  Being,  the  sacrifice,  the 
suffering  endurance,  all  having  the  mark  and  the  meas- 
ure of  the  infinite.  Now,  in  God's  scheme  and  work- 
manship, means  are  adjusted  to  ends  with  the  exactest 
precision,  so  that  there  is  no  large,  needless  waste  in 
the  moral  forces  he  appoints  or  the  provisions  he 
makes.  This  comes  of  his  wisdom,  and  his  economy 
of  expenditure.  When  such  a  being  as  Christ,  at  such 
a  labor  and  cost,  comes  into  the  world  to  save,  then 
there  were  beings  in  the  world  to  be  saved.  It  is  a  fair 
inference,  that  there  were  and  that  there  are  sinners 
here.  If  a  Divine  Being,  one  intrinsically  God  as  well 
as  truly  man,  came  to  save  sinners,  then  this  work  of 
saving  was  too  great  a  work  for  mere  created  capabili- 
ties. A  man,  an  angel,  could  not  do  it:  if  so,  a  man 
or  an  angel  would  have  been  appointed  to  do  it.  We 
thus  reach  the  conclusion,  that  this  work  of  saving 
men  is  a  great  work,  from  the  fact  that  divine  capabili- 
ties were  assigned  to  accomplish  it :  and  the  process  is 
a  perfectly  fair  one.  If  it  is  fair,  legitimate,  to  infer 
that  we  are  a  race  of  sinners,  from  the  fact  that  the 
Son  of  man  came  to  save  the  race,  it  is  equally  legiti- 
mate to  infer  from  the  fact  that  the  Saviour  is  God  in- 


232  THE   SON   OF   MAN   IS   COME 

carnate,  divine  powers  enlisted,  that  the  condition  of 
the  sinner  is  a  desperate  one  on  any  other  supposition. 
And  this  is  the  meaning  of  this  word  lost.  A  vast 
compass  and  depth  of  dismal  meaning  is  revealed  in 
it,  —  lost.  It  is  because  man  was  past  all  possibility 
of  self-recovery,  fallen  too  low  to  be  reached  and  re- 
stored by  any  created  arm,  that  the  term  lost  is  made 
the  descriptive  of  his  condition.  Because  this  is  the 
right  word  for  his  case,  his  a  completeness,  a  totality 
of  ruin,  so  far  as  all  created  helpers  are  concerned, 
therefore  the  infinite  Son  came  to  save. 

Not  only  the  greatness  of  the  Saviour,  but  the  mode 
pursued  to  effect  the  salvation,  also  proves  the  com- 
pleteness of  the  ruin.  That  the  Son  of  God  must 
suffer  as  he  did,  though  the  pureness  of  his  character 
made  only  joy  his  soul's  fit  companion,  yet  that  sorrow 
shovild  overwhelm  him ;  that  that  soul  which  knew  no 
sin  should  be  stricken,  crushed,  and  buried  in  gloom  ; 
that  this  Being,  in  the  hour  of  his  conflict,  should  be  a 
spectacle  of  suffering,  surpassing  all  that  had  been  seen 
or  known  elsewhere  in  the  universe,  —  all  this  was 
strange,  unless  we  consider  for  what  it  was.  It  was  the 
great  act  and  passion  in  the  scheme  of  saving  these 
lost.  Does  it  not  follow,  then,  that  the  setting  of  a  right 
example,  teaching  them,  giving  them  good  instruction, 
were  not  sufficient  to  save  them?  Suffering  and  death 
came  in.  The  suffering  and  death  of  the  Son  of  God 
were  demanded,  or  they  would  not  have  come  in. 
They  were  necessary,  on  account  of  the  obstructions  to 
be  got  out  of  the  way.  That  the  dying  of  the  infinite 
Son  was  the  divinely  appointed  way  to  do  it,  satisfies 
me  that  it  was  the  only  way  to  do  it.  I  could  not,  nor 
could  any  of  you,  nor  all  of  us  together,  nor  all  the 


TO   SEEK   AND   TO    SAVE.  233 

higher  ranks  of  being,  —  nothing  in  might,  in  influence, 
in  worth,  below  the  Godhead,  —  could  meet  the  case.  I 
prove  it  thus,  because  one  of  the  persons  of  the  God- 
head was  set  to  do  it.  Shut  out  that  Being  and  his 
work,  and  our  case  is  a  dark  one,  because  we  cannot 
cope  with  our  ruin,  have  no  strength ;  we  are  in  fet- 
ters, bound,  condemned ;  we  are  lost.  Oh  that  you 
would,  all  of  you,  but  let  the  full  meaning  of  that  term 
come  in  upon  your  souls,  and  feel  the  fact,  the  reign- 
ing sin,  which  makes  it  a  fact.  Then  the  preacher 
would  want  no  other  argument.  And  let  me  say,  here 
is  the  place,  after  all,  to  begin,  with  the  lowly  heart; 
here,  the  true  stand-point ;  here,  the  pregnant  centre 
from  which  to  reach  all  truth,  all  its  fruits  in  the 
character,  all  its  blessings  in  the  soul's  eternal  re- 
demption. 

Having  begun  at  the  other  end,  and  attempted  to 
reason  from  the  greatness,  the  infinite  character,  and 
measureless  glory  of  Him  who  came  and  bled  and 
died  to  save  us,  proving  thereby  the  entireness  of  our 
ruin  on  account  of  our  sin,  let  us  now  start  from  the 
depths  we  have  reached,  from  the  conviction  of  lost, 
and  pass  back  on  the  ascending  line  to  the  character 
and  person  of  Him  who  came  to  save.  And,  let  me 
say,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  going  this  way ;  no  mis- 
takes are  ever  made  in  trachig  this  process.  I  do  not 
believe  the  case  has  occurred  since  the  glorious  Ad- 
vent, the  case  of  the  individual,  whose  heart  received 
this  doctrine  of  lost,  who  felt  his  sin  and  its  irreparable 
mischief,  who  has  not  very  soon  admitted  the  doctrine, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  proffer  of  the  infinite  Repairer ; 
simply  because  such  an  one  sees  the  fitness  in  his  own 
case,  because  on  a  lower  theory,  and  with  a  human 


234  THE   SON   OP   MAN   IS   COME 

Saviour,  his  prospects  grow  gloomy  ;  for  he  has  a  work 
on  hand,  rather  a  work  on  his  heart,  which  only  the 
Maker  of  the  heart  can  do.  I  wish  you  to  mark  this 
in  God's  Book  when  you  read  it ;  in  all  the  characters 
and  experiences  you  have  an  opportunity  to  read,  your 
own  and  others,  mark  this,  —  that  the  equation  is  always 
run  out,  a  perfect  equation  always  made.  In  the  Bible 
we  find,  on  the  side  of  the  Redeemer,  an  infinity  of 
greatness  ;  on  our  side,  totality  of  ruin.  And  when  we 
come  to  the  records  of  experience,  to  the  heart  where 
the  Spirit  has  been,  to  write  its  letters  and  its  lines, 
that  heart  understands  that  the  Bible  is  no  exaggera- 
tion. Sin  is  all  through  me :  lost  is  the  word.  The 
heavy  heart  moans  in  the  night  watches.  Oh,  my  sin,  my 
ruin,  height,  vastness,  oppressive  burden.  Who  shall 
deliver  me  ?  The  Deliverer  comes,  the  Saviour  saves 
that  lost  one ;  and  that  delivered  soul  is  not  long  in 
telling  you  he  is  a  great  Saviour.  His  heart  sings  it 
in  its  first  swelling  emotions.  All  through  life,  till  the 
wave  of  death  touches  his  feet,  he  testifies  still.  Mine 
is  a  mighty  strength  and  measure  of  sin,  mine  a  great 
and  a  mighty  Redeemer.  And  when  those  feet  are 
planted  on  the  other  side,  the  equation  still  remains ; 
the  soul  in  its  retrospect  beholds  more  clearly  the  com- 
pass and  the  aggravation  of  its  guilt,  and  more  loftily 
and  transportingly  the  might  and  majesty  of  its  Re- 
deemer. 

Pass  now  to  an  opposite  page  of  experience ;  to  a 
class  who  have  not  much  belief  in  human  sin,  their 
own  or  anybody's  else.  They  view  sin  as  a  trifle, 
easily  managed ;  but  little  of  it,  and  that  little  they 
can  dispose  of,  or  keep  in  check,  at  their  pleasure.  A 
little  sin,  a  like  Saviour.     There  you  have  the  equa- 


TO   SEEK   AND   TO   SAVE.  235 

tion ;  the  quantity  of  sin,  and  tlie  quantity  of  Christ 
wanted,  in  exact  proportion  to  each  other.  Oh  that 
God  would  make  us  to  know  ourselves ;  and,  from  this 
knowledge  of  ourselves,  lead  us  up  to  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  redemption  in  the  mystery  of  its  doctrines,  in 
the  unmeasured  resources  of  its  grace,  in  the  bound- 
less might  of  the  agents  pledged  to  conduct  it  to  its 
grand  consummation. 

III.  I  come  now  to  the  third  and  last  step.  The 
first  is  the  greatness  of  that  coming ;  the  second,  the 
greatness  of  the  object  in  that  coming,  namely,  to  re- 
trieve and  save  from  an  utter  ruin ;  the  third  is  tlie 
duty  and  the  privilege,  on  our  part,  of  receiving  this 
great  Saviour :  this  argued  also  from  the  greatness  of 
that  coming,  and  the  greatness  of  our  necessity.  The 
greatness  of  that  coming,  the  more  we  meditate  upon 
it,  the  more  it  will  amaze  us.  The  mystery  of  love  in 
that  coming  is  beyond  our  fathoming.  (Jod  was  mani- 
fest in  the  flesh.  He  came,  he  stooped  to  the  condition 
of  a  servant,  that  he  might  make  us  kings  hereafter. 
And  for  this  he  ought  to  have  all  our  hearts ;  but,  in 
fact,  for  this  he  commonly  receives  the  treatment  of  a 
servant.  Because,  in  the  godlike  workings  of  his  love, 
he  laid  aside  his  divine  glory  for  a  season,  there  are 
those  who  refuse  to  give  it  back  to  him ;  deny,  hence- 
forth, his  right  to  that  glory.  The  Jews  were  satisfied 
to  crucify  Christ  in  his  humanity.  These  crucify  him 
in  his  divinity,  making  his  very  kindness  an  argument 
against  his  prerogative.  It  is  an  argument  all  the 
other  way.  That  wondrous  laying  off,  that  conde- 
scension, establishes  the  validity  of  the  prerogative, 
and  demonstrates  the  fulness  and  reliableness  of  his 
resources,  the  strength  of  his  purpose,  the  readiness 


236  THE   SON   OF   MAN   IS   COME 

of  his  heart  to  save.  He  is  come  to  save :  those  words 
are  only  winning,  most  tenderly  persuasive.  But  to 
whom  do  they  apply  ?  Where  do  they  reach,  and 
receive  the  warm  and  gushing  interest?  The  lost, — 
the  hearts  that  have  that  feeling  of  lost  are  the  hearts 
to  respond.  Christ  did  not  come  to  save  everybody ; 
to  save  those  who  have  no  wish  to  be  saved  ;  no  thought 
nor  belief  that  they  need  to  be  saved ;  not  to  save  rocks, 
or  the  senseless  things  colder  and  harder  than  the 
rocks.  As  the  argument  of  the  text  is  so  adjusted  and 
balanced  as  to  play  back  and  forth,  —  a  great  Saviour, 
therefore  a  great  ruin  to  be  repaired ;  a  great  ruin 
existing,  therefore  only  a  great  Saviour  could  be  ade- 
quate,—  so  in  the  appeal  growing  out  of  the  text,  it 
plays  both  ways.  If  any  can  do  without  him,  it  will 
appear  that  he  can  do  without  them.  That  matter 
stands  even.  But  the  hearts  that  know  and  confess 
that  they  are  lost,  the  sinners,  coming  to  him  as  such, 
he  will  not  pass  such  by.  Those  that  bend  and  incline 
toward  him,  he  bends  and  inclines  toward  them.  Be- 
tween that  soul  all  sensible  of  its  need,  oppressed  with 
its  unfitness  and  unworthiness,  and  the  blessed,  bound- 
less heart  of  the  Saviour,  there  is  a  quick  and  eager 
affinity.  Christ  has  a  purpose  in  that  direction,  there 
is  the  specific  errand  he  came  for,  —  to  save  that  lost 
soul.  A  whisper,  methinks,  comes  up  here,  and 
another  rises  there.  It  cannot  be  I,  It  cannot  be  I. 
Yes,  you,  if  you  lie  within  the  circle  of  the  lost,  in 
the  number  of  the  stripped,  helpless,  perishing  ones; 
if  you  are  willing  to  be  saved,  are  truly  wanting  to 
be  saved,  saved  in  that  Saviour's  way,  from  your 
sin,  —  you  will  hardly  get  out  of  this  place  to-day 
without  being  saved,  your  sins  forgiven,  the  blessed 


TO    SEEK   AND   TO    SAVE.  237 

work  begun  in  your  soul.  Your  unconsenting  heart 
out  of  the  way,  there  is  nothing  more  in  the  way. 
For  Christ  is  willing  ;  and  why  will  you  doubt  it  ? 
when  this  is  what  he  came  into  the  world  to  do,  to 
save ;  his  sole  object,  business  here,  to  save.  His 
name  is  Saviour.  This  his  chosen  descriptive  ;  Sa- 
viour, —  his  whole  mind  and  heart  and  being  filled 
and  glowing  with  this  work  and  enterprise  of  saving. 
His  soul's  desire  and  passion  are  to  save,  all  eager  to 
engage,  the  moment  he  can  find  a  subject,  find  a  sin- 
ner, a  soul  sick  of  its  sin  and  willing  to  be  saved  from 
and  out  of  its  sin.  Wherever  there  are  sucli  souls,  in 
a  Hottentot's  kraal  or  the  jungles  of  India,  or  beneath 
Afric's  palms ;  whoever  they  are,  the  refined,  the  eru- 
dite, the  enriched,  or  the  debased,  the  poorest  and 
obscurest  of  earth, —  Christ  is  there  on  his  work  of  sav- 
ing. There  is  not  one  such  soul  on  this  earth,  but 
Christ  knows  it  and  is  there.  If  there  is  one  such 
here,  Christ  is  here.  And  he  has  at  this  moment  a 
deeper  interest  in  that  one  than  in  all  the  rest  of  us, 
and  he  will  do  in  him  his  blessing,  saving  work.  What 
a  work  when  finished,  —  Saved.  What  a  contrast  to 
the  former  state,  —  Lost.  Gloom  and  misery  your  oft 
companions  ;  now,  peace,  hope,  and  soon  to  be  heaven. 
The  work  of  saving  finished ;  the  work  of  praising 
never  finished. 


XX. 

THE  GLORY  OF  CHRIST. 

And  the  Word  loas  made  Jlesh,  and  dwelt  among  us  {and  we 
beheld  his  glory,  the  glory  as  of  the  only  begotten  of  the 
Father),  full  of  grace  and  trxith.  —  John  i.  14. 

/~^AN  we  do  better,  in  meditating  on  these  words,  than 
^-^  try  to  bring  before  onr  minds  a  few  gleams  of  the 
glory  of  Christ  ?  I  go  into  no  discussion,  no  studied 
profoundness  ;  but,  mainly  assuming  the  truth  we  hold, 
I  shall  touch  in  a  rapid,  discursive  way  some  of  the 
items  which  go  to  make  up  the  completeness,  the  in- 
finity, of  the  glory  of  Christ.  To  sum  up  all  in  single 
words,  they  would  be  Greatness,  Mystery,  Condescen- 
sion, Love,  Wealth,  Power,  Achievement.  All  these 
we  find  in  him. 

Christ  has  the  glory  which  comes  of  Greatness  ; 
greatness  of  being,  underived,  unending  being.  I  am 
Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  the  first 
and  the  last.  His  an  existence  before  any  created 
thing,  and  holding  on  amid  all  the  mutations  of  beings 
and  worlds  finite  and  dependent,  sublimely  unchanging, 
—  the  same  yesterday  and  to-day  and  for  ever.  His  pres- 
ence everywhere  that  his  people  are,  to  protect  and 
bless.  His  knowledge,  like  his  presence,  commensu- 
ratv,  "ith  all  breadth  ;  knowledge  reaching  to  all  the 
secrecies  and  depths,  declaring  himself  to  the  churches 
as  He  that  searcheth  the  reins  and  the  hearts.     Such  the 


THE    GLORY    OF    CHRIST.  239 

character  of  his  attributes  all  through.  In  his  higher 
nature  not  finite,  but  underived,  independent,  infinite, 
possessing  the  glory  which  comes  of  greatness. 

Tlien,  most  intimately  connected  is  the  glory  of 
Mystery.  Christ,  in  his  wonderful  qualities  and  consti- 
tution, is  a  subject  not  easily  mastered.  Questions  arise 
about  him  not  readily  answered ;  bounds  are  there,  if 
any,  our  scope  cannot  reach  ;  depths  we  cannot  fathom. 
Crreat  is  the  inystery  of  godliness  ;  Grod  ivas  manifest  in  the 
flesh.  God  and  man,  two  natures  :  this  a  fact  revealed. 
One  person :  this,  too,  a  fact  revealed.  The  facts  we 
can  see  and  receive.  The  mystery  connected  we  cannot 
explore.  But  we  can  bow  and  confess  that  there  is 
something  greater  than  we ;  something  for  tasking  the 
advanced  powers,  for  subsequent  revelations.  It  is  folly 
to  be  ofiended  at  the  mystery,  for  the  mystery  arises 
from  the  greatness  and  the  glory  of  these  truths.  The 
glory  of  our  Lord  is  greatly  advanced  by  the  mystery 
of  his  person.  His  the  glory  of  mystery  ;  and  his  glory 
shall  heighten  as  these  mysteries  shall  unfold ;  and  the 
mysteries  shall  still  remain,  we  believe,  to  re-act,  and 
new  ones  arise,  perhaps,  to  heighten  yet  more  the  glory 
of  the  Lord. 

Then,  further,  intimately  connected  with  the  glory 
which  comes  of  the  mystery  is  the  glory  of  his  Con- 
descension. And  there  is  a  glory  in  condescension. 
We  feel  it  when  we  see  it  in  a  human  character ;  one 
great  in  endowments  and  station,  yet  ever  spontane- 
ously coming  down,  ready,  rejoicing  to  bend  in  order 
to  confer  a  benefit ;  no  hauteur  or  arrogant  assuming, 
but  everywhere  the  gentle,  the  condescending  bearing. 
We  pronounce  this  a  crown  of  glory  in  a  character 
that  has  any  just  claim  to  greatness. 


240  THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST. 

But  the  condescension  of  Christ,  we  will  let  Paul 
tell  you  it.  How  great  the  condescension,  when  he 
who  was  in  the  form  of  God,  and  who  thought  it  no 
robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  yielding  the  claim  of 
equality,  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took 
upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the 
likeness  of  men,  and  in  that  form  became  obedient 
unto  death.  That  great  act  of  condescension  was  fol- 
lowed by  an  unbroken  series  of  touching  and  humble 
ministries,  ever  bending  to  the  lot  of  all  the  smallest, 
the  obscurest,  and  most  despised.  Such  was  he  ever 
when  on  earth.     The  same,  exalted  back  into  heaven. 

Another  item,  quite  kindred  with  the  preceding,  is 
the  glory  of  his  Intention.  The  glory  here  lies  in  the 
generous  love  of  it ;  and  the  height  and  strength 
of  the  love  appears  in  this,  that  it  goes  forward  and 
accomplishes  its  blessing  purpose  through  difficulties, 
over  obstructions  ;  a  love  that  no  barriers  could  arrest ; 
a  love  that  many  waters  could  not  quench,  nor  floods 
drown.  The  sentiment  which  reigned  in  his  heart  was 
compassion  for  us  in  our  lost  condition.  The  object 
to  be  accomplished,  our  rescue  from  condemnation, 
our  justification,  sanctification,  restoration  to  God's 
favor  and  presence.  The  obstruction  was  the  justice, 
truth,  holiness  of  God  ;  to  be  maintained  only  by  God's 
maintaining  his  law,  the  penalty  of  which  we  had  in- 
curred ;  a  difficulty  Christ  could  take  out  of  the  way 
only  by  putting  himself  in  our  stead,  taking  the  penalty 
upon  himself,  himself  made  a  curse  for  us.  He  bear- 
ing it  for  us,  we  believing  in  him,  accepting  what  he 
has  done  for  us,  are  made  free  from  the  curse,  through 
faith  in  him.  Is  it  not  love  in  its  height  and  perfection, 
that  would  do  that  for  such  as  we  ;  that  would  make 


THE  GLORY   OF   CHRIST.  241 

such  a  sacrifice,  endure  such  an  agony,  surpassing, 
doubtless,  all  that  had  been  witnessed  on  earth  before ; 
a  suffering  the  sun  refused  to  see,  and  that  brought 
inanimate  nature  into  shrouded  and  convulsive  sym- 
pathy,—  this  for  enemies  ?  How  exceeding  in  glory; 
and  how  much  more  admirable  and  glorious  as  a  love 
that  discriminated  ;  that  would  not  tread  down  princi- 
ple to  gain  its  end ;  and,  while  it  would  save  if  it  could, 
would  not  and  will  not  save  to  the  dishonor  of  God, 
or  the  weakening  of  his  government,  or  the  obliterating 
of  the  distinction  between  holy  and  unholy ;  not  that 
weak,  loose,  profligate  love  that  pities,  but  cares  not 
for  integrity  and  purity,  as  though  happiness  were  the 
great  ultimate  good,  not  righteousness.  And  whilst 
the  glory  of  this  love  is  the  fact  that  it  discriminates, 
it  is  not,  we  add,  narrow  nor  partial ;  that  death  of 
the  Son  was  borne  for  all ;  the  provision  made  for 
all ;  the  inviting  voice  sounds  forth  to  all.  Ho,  every 
one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters.  Such  the 
strength  of  his  love,  and  the  breadth  of  his  kindly 
intention. 

Then  his  Resource.  This  another  item  in  the  glory 
of  Christ,  —  his  fulness,  and  exhaustless  means  and 
material  for  blessing,  the  glory  which  comes  of  posses- 
sion ;  this,  in  part,  the  glory  of  Christ.  We  make  no 
reference  here  to  outward  possession,  material  wealth. 
This,  indeed,  is  all  his;  for  he  made  it.  Men  are  mad 
after  this ;  but  he  has  what  is  vastly  higher,  without 
which  the  outward  is  a  mere  nullity.  Men  gain  wealth, 
but  lose  life  ;  and  what  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain 
the  world,  and  lose  his  life  ?  This  possession  is  Christ's, 
—  Life.  He  has  life  in  himself;  life,  physical  and 
spiritual.     He  is  the  Life,  the  eternal  life.     Such  as 

16 


242  THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST. 

this  has  he  in  his  power,  such  to  give.  Just  think 
what  a  stock  of  life,  what  quantity,  what  power  of  life 
resident  in  him ;  so  great  tliat  he  concedes  to  all  the 
successive  and  countless  millions  of  earth  the  privilege 
of  drawing  upon  him,  drawing  from  him  the  boon  of 
life,  knowing  that  he  has  in  himself,  as  the  joint  cre- 
ation of  his  power  and  the  purchase  of  his  death, 
enough  to  honor,  even  to  the  end,  every  draft  of  faith, 
every  want  of  true  humility,  every  demand  of  be- 
lieving prayers.  We  may,  perhaps,  gain  our  best  idea 
of  the  quantity  of  possession,  the  compass  and  glory 
of  wealth  in  him,  by  looking  at,  or  con.ceiving,  as  best 
we  can,  the  process  and  items  of  dispensation  on  his 
part. 

In  this  comprehensive  gift  of  life  to  a  soul  doomed, 
a  soul  dead  in  sin,  there  is  the  pardon,  the  release  of 
the  soul  from  the  sentence  of  death  eternal ;  this  done 
by  an  efficacy  resident  in  him  through  his  sufferings ;, 
an  efficacy,  an  influence  he  has  abundantly,  namely, 
the  power  to  forgive  sins  ;  a  fund  of  merit  which  shall 
fill  the  enormous  vacuity  made  by  the  sinner's  demerit,, 
and  which  makes  him,  all  wanting  as  he  is,  perfect 
in  righteousness,  rich  in  the  treasures  of  an  obedience 
not  his  own  and  yet  made  his  own,  and  the  fruits  of 
it  and  the  mighty  awards  laid  upon  his  worthless  and 
naked  soul. 

Not  only  the  pardon,  the  justification,  but  the  sus- 
tenance also.  First,  the  life,  an  implantation  from 
him,  he  the  author  of  it ;  then,  perpetually  after,  he  the 
feeder,  the  sustainer  of  it.  In  this  comprehensive  gift 
of  life,  himself  the  bread,  the  flesh  to  nourish  and  sup- 
port it.  The  great  declaration  is.  Without  me,  ye  can  do 
nothing,  are  nothing,  and  come  to  nothing.     Broken 


THE  GLORY   OF   CHRIST.  243 

from  that  stock,  the  vital,  transmitting  connection 
sundered,  the  disciple  droops  and  dies.  It  follows  that 
every  thing  which  contributes  to  the  Christian's  vigor 
an-d  prosperity  comes  directly  out  of  the  fidness  in 
Christ ;  Christ  always  giving,  the  disciple  always  re- 
ceiving. And  all  that  he  wants,  and  more  than  he 
dare  think,  or  could  think  till  he  received,  he  does 
profusely  receive. 

It  is  wonderful  in  his  single  case :  a  glory  of  Pos- 
session is  it  that  can  tlius  give  and  do  for  one  needy 
soul,  making  it  thus  rich  in  present  experience,  rich 
in  assured  and  boundless  hopes.  And  he  is  only  one. 
"When  we  take  into  consideration  the  numbers,  past 
numbering,  that  have  thus  drawn  upon  him,  and  are 
now  drawing,  and  the  vastly  greater  numbers  that 
shall  yet  draw  life  and  sustenance  and  boundless  en- 
richment from  him,  what  then  shall  we  think  of  the 
repleteness  of  the  fountain,  the  glory  of  his  wealth, 
that  can  thus  give,  and  not  be  diminished  ;  with  whom 
is  no  fear  of  exhaustion ;  no  possibility  of  a  balance 
against  him ;  no  compulsory  protest  there  of  crowded 
and  beseeching  claims ;  enough  there  to  make  them 
all  princes  and  kings,  royal  in  wealth,  and  to  have 
thrones  and  crowns  at  length  ?  We  may  exclaim  in 
the  phrase  of  that  blessed  confessor,  Samuel  Ruther- 
ford, of  Scotland,  who  had  as  long  a  line  as  any  other 
man  to  sink  into  this  profound  of  Christ's  treasured 
wealth  and  good,  "  Who  can  fathom,  who  tell,  how 
far  it  is  to  the  bottom  of  our  Christ  ?  Who  hath  ever 
grasped  the  foldings  and  the  piles  and  the  heights  and 
the  depths  of  that  grace  and  glory  which  is  in  him, 
and  freely  made  over  to  us  ?  " 

With  this  glory  of  possession  there  is  connected  in 


244  THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST. 

our  Lord  the  glory  of  Achievement.  And  here  we 
keep  on  moral  grounds.  His  higher  glory  comes  of 
his  moral  deeds.  We  admit  that  it  was  great  to  speak 
a  world  from  nought.  This  our  Christ  has  done.  But 
it  was  greater  to  redeem.  This  our  Christ  is  now 
doing.  Redemption  —  I  speak  of  redemption  applied 
—  is,  in  every  instance,  a  conquest;  the  now  happy 
subject  of  it,  once  a  resisting  rebel,  Christ  subdued 
him,  conquered  him.  Hence,  Christ  appears  as  a 
conqueror ;  and  the  world  has  ever  resounded  with 
the  glory  of  conquerors.  Christ's,  pre-eminently,  is  the 
glory  of  a  conqueror  ;  using  for  his  purpose,  however, 
only  the  weajwns  of  truth  and  goodness  ;  never  the 
carnal,  ever  the  spiritual  and  mighty.  The  glory  lies 
partly  in  the  power  displayed  in  the  doing ;  a  power 
to  transform  infuriate  rage  to  gentleness  and  peace ; 
arrogant  pride  to  meekness  and  humility ;  the  lust 
of  gain  to  the  love  of  giving ;  the  hateful  and  hating 
qualities  changed  as  by  one  stroke  of  that  power  into 
the  fervors  of  gratitude  and  the  kindliest  sympathy ; 
the  will  that  would  not  bend,  but  refused,  and  stiffened 
itself  more  stoutly,  ere  it  thought,  bending  cheerfully, 
it  knew  not  how,  but  knew  how  blessed  it  was  thus  to 
be  made  willing.  Such  the  power  shown  in  Christ's 
conquests,  —  glorious  for  this.  And  then,  his  design 
therein,  — glorious  for  this,  too, —  not  to  make  the 
conquered  a  slave,  but  a  freeman ;  his  a  conquest 
into  liberty  ;  from  Egypt  and  all  its  durance  vile  into 
Canaan,  where  rest  is  found,  and  sweet  refreshment 
and  all  good  experiences.  Thus  far  there  has  been 
not  a  little  of  this  sort  of  achievement.  This  glory 
of  conquest  on  the  part  of  our  Lord  has  been  witnessed 
more  or  less  in  every  nation  and  tribe  where  the  gospel 


THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST.  245 

has  been  carried.  Cases  innumerable  have  occurred 
of  the  most  exciting  interest,  marvellous,  glorious ; 
and  for  them  the  heavens  give  him  glory,  crying.  Great 
and  marvellous  are  thy  works.  And  could  all  the  cases 
that  have  transpired,  yea,  all  now  on  the  stage,  some, 
the  most  remarkable,  hidden  in  India  and  the  islands 
of  the  sea, — could  all  be  brought  together  and  brought 
under  human  view,  as  they  are  under  angelic,  men 
would  join  and  equal  in  fervor  the  acclaim  of  angels, 
saying.  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God 
Almighty  ;  great  the  glory  of  thy  conquests,  thou  King 
of  saints. 

And  yet  this  glory  is  now  mainly  prospective,  the 
glory  of  works  to  be  done ;  what  he  has  done  demon- 
strating his  fitness  and  ability  yet  to  do.  He  still  lives 
and  works  the  conqueror  ;  and  will  work,  with  none  to 
let,  till  the  world  shall  be  submissive  at  his  feet.  We 
choose  to  stand  by  and  maintain  the  competency  of 
Christ,  enthroned  above,  for  the  enterprise  on  his 
hands ;  to  be  consummated  as  a  moral  enterprise,  by 
his  truth  and  Spirit.  So  shall  the  glory  of  it  be 
greater,  moral,  not  of  force,  not  of  a  re-appearing 
king.  We  have  faith  that  it  will  be.  By  faith,  even 
now,  we  behold  it  as  done ;  the  blessed  Comforter 
descending,  according  to  the  promise,  and  a  world 
transformed,  a  world  redeemed. 

Then,  perhaps,  another  scene  should  be  added. 
These,  even  all  his  trophies  of  every  age,  by  the  glo- 
rious Leader  and  Conqueror  conducted  into  heaven  ; 
the  resurrection  and  the  judgment  passed,  all  gath- 
ered safe  in  heaven.  They  all  belonged  originally  to 
another  place,  and  were  on  their  way  to  it.  All  owe 
it  to  him  that  they  are  at  length  in  heaven ;  saying 


246  THE   GLORY   OP   CHRIST. 

and  singing,  that  all  thej  have,  their  treasures  of 
character  and  affection,  the  beginning,  the  progress, 
the  holiness,  the  peace,  the  victory,  the  triumph,  the 
crowning,  —  all,  the  gift  and  achievement  of  Christ. 
Will  these  not  shine  forth  in  him  an  unapproached 
glory  of  achievement  ?  And  will  he  not  then  be  wor- 
thy of  the  many  crowns  that  shall  be  placed  on  liis 
head? 

But  the  subject  is  too  vast  for  our  hearts.  It  comes 
with  a  greatness  and  opulence  that  hold  us,  at  times, 
in  a  species  of  confused,  abstract  admiration.  And 
yet  it  is  something  which  concerns  us,  something  set 
before  us,  and  which  we  ought  to  see,  so  far  as  we 
can,  the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father.  It  is 
not  a  subject  to  be  wrought  up,  and  then  ended  in 
strains  of  rhapsody.  It  is  directly  and  solidly  practical. 
It  has  its  substantial  Christian  uses.  I  can  name  but 
two  or  three. 

1.  If  such  is  Christ,  such  the  qualities  which  con- 
stitute his  character,  it  follows  that  he  is  worth  seeing. 
The  sight  of  Christ,  if  our  heart  should  go  with  our 
eyes,  would  contribute  to  make  us  like  him ;  beholding, 
though  imperfectly,  the  glory,  we  should  be  changed 
into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord. 

2.  Again,  the  sight  will  contribute  to  make  the 
soul  more  blessed,  gazing,  and  perceiving  more  and 
more  what  a  Saviour  he  is,  and  what  a  Saviour  it  has. 
This  view,  by  faith,  of  that  amazing  glory  will  make 
scenes  and  moments  of  heaven  here  upon  earth.  And 
this  it  is,  we  believe,  in  open  vision  hereafter,  which 
will  wake  and  sustain  in  heaven  itself  its  most  heavenly 
rapture,  when  that  memorable   prayer  of  the  Lord, 


THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST.  247 

presented  just  before  his  passion,  shall  be  answered, 
Father,  I  will  that  they  also  lohom  thou  hast  given  me,  he 
with  me  ivhere  I  am ;  that  they  may  behold  my  glory. 
Wonderful  words,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory ;  a 
glory  in  its  brightness  which  only  a  celestial  vision 
can  meet ;  a  succession  of  glories  ever  rising  upon  the 
soul,  rising  and  unfolding  new  matters  of  entrancing 
interest,  deeper  mysteries  of  knowledge  and  of  wealth  ; 
fresher  the  longer  seen ;  and  the  more  intently  seen 
the  more  of  treasure  gained,  and  the  higher  the  expe- 
rience of  blessedness. 

3.  To  be,  indeed,  the'  disciple  of  such  a  Master,  the 
relation  is  a  privilege  and  an  honor,  a  fountain  of 
wealth  and  of  all  possible  good.  If  you  are  his,  such 
the  largess  of  the  covenant,  that  all  his  is  yours.  His 
own  words  are,  Ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall 
he  done  unto  you.  Draw  to  the  extent  of  your  heart, 
and  it  shall  be  given  you.  Thus  he  maintains  his 
glory,  by  his  divine  style  of  giving.  So  many  Chris- 
tians have  found  it,  and  more  will,  as  more  shall  come, 
as  the  Lord  loves  to  have  them  come,  in  a  way  that 
shall  make  it  consistent  on  his  part,  like  himself,  to 
give  ;  his  glory  and  happiness  lying  in  the  line  of  un- 
ceasing and  unmeasured  giving.  And  the  Christian's 
happiness,  too,  like  the  Master's,  consists  very  much 
in  giving,  not  merely  in  receiving  the  opulent  bless- 
ings,  but  more  in  giving  back  the  heart's  gratitude 
and  praise. 

4.  I  remark,  further,  that  it  is  very  evident  what  is 
incumbent  upon  Christians,  in  order  to  advance  and 
make  still  more  manifest  the  glory  of  the  Master.  This 
is  done,  his  glory  made  manifest,  just  so  far  as  they 
invite  or  promote,  on  his  part,  dispensation.     Infinite 


248  THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST. 

treasures  of  grace  and  glory  are  resident  in  him ;  but 
restrained,  held  back,  it  is  a  glory  concealed.  And 
what  restrains  ?  What  binds  and  holds,  ingloriously 
confined,  those  exhaustless  resources  ?  What,  when 
on  earth,  ignobly  cramped,  that  divinely  beneficent 
Power,  who  woidd,  but  could  not,  could  not  do  his 
miglity  works  there,  because  of  their  unbelief?  Worth- 
less and  weak  as  we  are,  yet,  astounding  fact,  we  do 
stand  at  the  gate  of  such  outgoings  as  these,  and  suc- 
ceed in  holding  ba-ck,  or  more  copiously  inviting,  the 
enriching  floods.  Unbelief  shuts  back  all  outflow  from 
the  infinite  fountains.  Faith  and  the  prayer  of  faith 
brings  him  forth  in  prodigal  dispensation ;  and  the  world 
brightens  under  his  beneficence,  and  new  ones  spring 
forth  to  praise  him.  His  glory  then  shines ;  shines  just 
in  proportion  as  his  friends  get  out  of  the  way ;  rather 
prepare  the  way  for  him  to  do  his  redeeming  works, 
and  scatter  his  princely  gifts.  And  they,  too,  in  this 
state  and  mood,  themselves  begin  to  shine  and  to  reflect 
that  glory.  Tluis  we  ought  ever  to  do,  that  men  may 
behold  in  the  church  the  glory  of  Christ.  So  our 
blessed  Lord  would  have  us,  even  like  him  in  character. 
And  then  this,  I  suppose,  is  what  our  Lord  would 
have  us  do ;  namely,  put  him  upon  achievement.  And 
such  deeds  as  belong  to  him  to  do,  this  tortured  world 
now  begs  to  witness,  and  receive  at  his  hands. 

Oh,  Lord,  how  long  ?  In  wailing  cries  it  comes 
repeated  to  our  ears.  How  long  ?  We  here  bow  before 
the  glory  of  mystery  ;  and  there  is  no  mystery  pro- 
founder  than  this  delay  on  his  part  to  work  and  to 
save.  Let  not  our  faith  falter  for  this.  Let  it  ride 
still  that  ocean  of  grace  gathered  in  Christ ;  safely  and 
confidently  ride,  because  anchored  on  the  unfailing 
bottom  of  eternal  promise. 


THE   GLORY   OF   CHRIST.  249 

Let  us  come  to-day  where  our  souls  may  be  filled, 
and  ask  others  to  come  that  they  may  be  blest.  Come, 
ye  who  have  not  yet  known  him.  If  you  feel  the 
burden  of  your  sin,  lay  your  soul  in  penitence  and 
-faith  at  his  feet,  and  he  will  give  you  rest ;  will  re- 
plenish you  with  all  good,  and  bring  you  to  behold  his 
glory. 


XXI. 

SEEK    FIRST    THE    KINGDOM    OF    GOD    AND    HIS 
EIGHTEOUSNESS. 

But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness  ; 
and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you.  - —  Matthew 
vi.  33. 

T  TERE  is  something  to  be  sought.     The  kingdom 
-*-■*-  0/  Ciody  and  his  righteousness. 

The  kingdom  of  Grod.  What  is  this  ?  We  may  con- 
ceive of  it  as  a  place,  or  realm,  where  the  dwellers  are 
the  subjects,  yea,  the  sons,  of  God ;  in  character,  sub- 
stantially right ;  in  destiny,  eternally  secure.  Seek 
to  enter  the  door  of  that  kingdom,  and  become  one  of 
that  privileged  company.  The  kingdom  of  Crod.  We 
may  conceive  of  it  as  a  condition,  or  state ;  a  state  of 
submission  to  the  reign  of  God.  Seek  to  put  yourself, 
your  heart,  in  that  reverent  and  becoming  attitude. 
The  kingdom  of  Crod.  We  may  conceive  of  it  as  a 
possession.  In  that  case,  the  kingdom  of  Cfod  is  ivithin 
you,  not  in  word,  hut  in  power.  It  is  the  authority,  the 
truth,  the  love  of  God,  abiding  within,  as  the  ruling 
principle  of  the  soul.  But  there  is  another  phrase  in 
the  text,  The  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness. 
God's  righteousness.  What  is  that  ?  It  embodies  this 
idea,  a  righteousness  like  God's,  Be  ye  therefore  per- 
fect, even  as  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect. 
Again,  a  righteousness  which  is  the  gift  of  God.    While 


SEEK   FIRST   THE   KINGDOM   OP   GOD,   ETC.  2-31 

this  moral  quality  is  to  be  sought  by  tlie  creature, 
there  is  a  sense  iu  which  it  is  the  work  or  gift  of  the 
Creator.  We  are  commanded  to  seek  it,  do  it,  be  it. 
Make  you  a  new  heart ;  and,  in  immediate  connection, 
we  read  the  promise,  and  I  -will  give  them  one  hearty 
and  I  will  put  a  neiv  spirit  within  you.  There  is  another 
idea  :  it  is  not  merely  God's  sanctifying  grace,  and  the 
moral  element,  the  holiness,  the  sanctified  state  pro- 
duced thereby ;  it  is  also  his  justifying  grace.  The 
person  that  has  entered  this  divine  realm,  that  has 
the  loyal,  obedient  heart,  God's  love  enthroned  therein, 
stands  there,  and  will  stand,  at  the  last,  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  God,  as  righteous,  as  completely  so, 
as  if  the  guilt  of  sin  had  never  been  on  him ;  and  it  is 
the  righteousness  of  God  he  then  wears  ;  God's  right- 
eousness, as  being  the  result  of  his  saving  plan,  by  his 
wisdom  devised,  by  that  great  sacrifice,  the  incarnation 
and  death  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  wrought  out.  Who- 
ever enters  the  door,  and  has  within  him  the  principle, 
the  spirit,  the  power  called  righteousness,  has  about 
him,  also,  the  perfect  robe  righteousness ;  has  both 
the  character  and  clothing  of  righteousness ;  within 
and  without,  righteousness,  —  a  good  in  life,  a  support 
in  death,  a  treasure  and  a  crown  in  eternity.  This  is 
Christianity,  true  religion,  the  spirit  and  the  power  of 
it  in  the  soul. 

Tims  far  we  have  the  object  to  be  sought.  This 
religion  of  Christ  and  the  heart  is  made,  by  the  author- 
ity of  Christ,  an  object  of  human  seeking.  There  is 
a  sense  and  a  mode  in  which  men  are  to  seek  it.  Still, 
I  admit  that  what  is  called  seeking  religion  is  a  phrase 
and  a  practice  which  has  been  greatly  abused.  But 
no  abuse  and  no  injury  can  accrue  when  it  is  sought 


252  SEEK    FIRST   THE    KINGDOM    OF   GOD 

according  to  the  direction  of  this  great  precept,  which 
says,  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteous- 
ness. And  what  does  this  imply  ?  That  I  may  describe 
clearly,  let  me  describe  concretely,  introducing  a  per- 
son, one  who  may  be  said  to  practise  obediently,  and 
seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  mid  his  righteousness. 
We  say,  then,  of  such  an  one, — 

That  religion  is  put  first  by  him  in  his  soul's  estima- 
tion. He  looks  all  about  him,  and  finds  nothing  in 
the  depths  or  the  heights  that,  for  substantial  worth, 
will  compare  with  this  righteousness,  the  character 
and  the  clothing  which  assures  to  liim  the  approval  of 
God  and  the  inheritance  of  eternity. 

I  remark,  further,  that,  in  his  seeking,  he  puts  it 
first  in  the  order  of  time.  This  before  any  thing  else  ; 
this  in  the  first  of  life ;  or,  if  life  has  somewhat  ad- 
vanced before  he  comes  to  the  just,  the  ascendant 
estimation,  then  this  as  the  first  thing  he  does  after 
his  eyes  begin  to  open,  and  his  heart  to  be  moved  ;  the 
first  of  all  that  remains  of  time ;  the  first,  the  best, 
the  freshest  hours  of  every  day  of  time,  and  so  all 
through  time.     This  suggests  another  idea. 

Seeking  with  this  great  interest  in  the  ascendency, 
he  seeks  with  all  other  things  brought  into  subordina- 
tion. Seeking  this  first,  whatever  puts  back  his  success 
he  is  prepared  to  put  aside  or  put  down.  "With  this 
principle  we  may  go  on,  and  sweep  the  entire  field  of 
minor  and  conflicting  claims,  demanding  a  sacrifice  of 
the  less  to  the  greater,  and  whatever  it  is  that  lifts  its 
head  or  its  arm  as  an  obstruction,  it  is  put  out  of  the 
way,  simply  because  the  first,  the  ascendant  seeking, 
is  the  seeking  of  the  soul's  right  character,  and  eternal 
interest  and  destiny.     Another  thing  is, — 


AND    HIS  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  253 

He  seeks  with  a  resolved  and  inflexible  will.  There 
has  been  in  the  preliminary,  as  we  have  seen,  a  can- 
vassing, an  estimate,  and  a  decision.  He  has  intelli- 
gently erected  this  as  the  great  end ;  has  planted 
himself  on  this  basis,  and  put  his  eye  off  yonder  upon 
the  eternal ;  and  his  living  now  is  to  be  for  that.  He 
has  satisfied  himself  that  it  ought  to  be,  and  has 
resolved  it  shall  be  for  that.  It  is  the  position,  the 
fixture,  of  an  inflexible  soul.  If  it  is  not,  if  he  is  half 
decided  and  half  in  doubt,  —  perhaps,  to-day  strong  in 
his  purpose,  to-morrow  shaking,  hesitating  in  his  place, 
the  next  day,  not  there,  but  somewhere  else,  —  he  is 
not  the  man  I  am  trying  to  put  before  you,  and  com- 
mend to  your  imitation.  The  resolved  and  inflexible 
will,  firm  as  adamant,  stiff"  as  steel,  is  indispensable  to 
this  character  and  style  of  seeking.  In  that  case  the 
desires  and  affections  of  the  heart  are  toward  it ;  and 
the  judgments  of  the  reason,  the  decisions  of  the  will, 
and  the  persistent  strivings  of  the  whole  man  are  for 
the  gaining  of  it.  So  much  for  the  mode,  as  involved 
in  the  terse  phrase.  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God. 

The  considerations  which  make  it  reasonable  and 
proper  to  seek  this  kingdom  and  righteousness,  after 
this  mode,  may  be  soon  stated.  Indeed,  they  have 
already  been  implied.  The  chief  reason  lies  here ; 
namely,  in  the  fact,  that  the  estimate  we  have  spoken 
of,  which  places  religion  in  a  supremacy  of  importance, 
is  a  true  estimate.  It  is  so.  I  cannot  formally  argue 
the  matter,  because  too  plain  for  argument.  Written 
here  within,  as  our  soul's  intuition,  men  feel  the  hand- 
writing, the  engraved  truth  on  the  living  tablets,  that 
they  are  in  fault,  that  there  is  disorder,  derangement 
within ;  that  sinning  has  brought  them  into  great  diffi- 


254  SEEK   FIEST   THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD 

culty  and  peril ;  that  they  have  a  great  preparation  to 
make,  a  solemn  account  to  settle  with  their  Maker. 
Now  that  is  the  thing  ye  are  to  seek  first,  that  some- 
tiling  which  puts  all  right  with  you ;  the  germ  within, 
pregnant  and  deathless,  of  right  character,  that  right- 
eousness which  will  give  you  a  kingly  seat  hard  by 
the  radiance  of  the  ineffable  throne,  to  shine  with  the 
lustre  of  that  lieavenly  shining.  It  is  the  best,  the 
highest  in  worth,  the  richest  in  the  true  wealth,  infi- 
nitely above  and  beyond  any  thing  the  world  has  to 
offer. 

Furthermore,  this  religion  of  Christ,  this  principle 
of  life  in  the  soul,  is  not  only  the  highest  good  in 
itself  considered  :  there  is  this  idea  also,  that  all  subor- 
dinate good  comes  in  the  train  of  this.  Seeh  first  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteousness;  and  all  these 
things  —  all  the  necessary  things  of  life  —  shall  he 
added  unto  you.  The  point  is,  secure  the  supreme 
good,  then  all  other  real  good  will  come  as  a  conse- 
quence to  this.  The  possession  of  this  places  in  your 
hand  God's  certificate,  the  written  promise  and  bond 
of  his  hand,  that  you  shall  have  all  the  other ;  that 
all  worthy  good,  just  so  far  as,  in  the  divine  judgment, 
it  will  prove  a  good  to  you,  shall  follow  the  chief  and 
great  possession.  There  is  to  be  industry,  providence. 
There  may  be  sometimes  want  even,  where  the  recum- 
bent on  straw  lies  there  with  his  roll,  and  on  it  is 
written,  heir  of  all  things ;  seemingly  very  destitute, 
dependent  on  charity,  when,  in  a  little,  the  weary  feet 
shall  stand  on  the  golden  pavement,  and  the  pauper 
soul  range  as  proprietor  of  heavenly  magnificence. 
There  are  some  dark  spots  and  some  dark  days,  now 
and  then  mysterious  conflictings  between  the  severity 


AND   HIS  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  255 

of  God's  dealings  and  the  breadth  of  the  promise 
made  unto  his  own.  But  let  there  be  faith.  Let  God 
be  trusted  while  he  works  :  his  compass  of  wisdom 
and  resource  is  very  great.  It  will  come  out  according 
to  the  promise.  Indeed,  so  far  as  the  darkness  lifts, 
we  see  it  so  coming  out ;  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you. 

The  supreme  good,  the  life  of  God  in  the  soul,  his 
kingdom  and  righteousness  made  yours,  so  that  you 
are  a  son  and  heir  of  his,  all  that  is  truly  desirable  or 
profitable  to  you,  in  the  tilings,  comforts,  possessions 
of  this  present  world,  shall  come  to  you.  How  abso- 
lutely conclusive  and  clenching  the  argument  that  this 
is  the  true  way  of  seeking  ;  the  possession  of  the 
primal,  the  greater,  makes  sure  the  possession  of  the 
rest.  Thus  grand  and  sure  is  the  march  of  this  divine 
process.  Allow  me  now  to  recapitulate  and  consum- 
mate it.  Religion  in  the  heart,  Christ's  kingdom  and 
righteousness,  is  the  all  in  all.  No  soul  that  is  enlight- 
ened but  knows  it  to  be  so.  This  gained,  every  thing 
is  gained.  Well,  then,  what  next  ?  When  ?  The  time, 
the  manner  ?  How  seek  it  ?  First,  the  very  next  thing 
you  do  ;  thoroughly,  even  to  the  end,  allowing  no 
faltering,  no  hesitating,  nor  backing  down  ;  life  or 
death ;  through  life,  on  to  death's  blighting  touch. 
And  the  reason  for  this  is,  it  is  so  great  a  matter ;  and 
possession  will  be  so  glorious,  and  defeat  so  disastrous. 
This,  the  reason  for  this  style  and  tone  of  seeking.  It 
is  that  the  objects  demand  such  seeking.  It  is  that 
this  spirit  and  mode  of  seeking  will  be  followed  with 
success.  It  is  a  principle  God  has  laid  down,  and  I 
suppose  he  will  never  depart  from  it,  that  if  we  would 
do  our  great  work,  if  we  would  get  these  souls  of 


256  SEEK   FIEST   THE   KINGDOM   OF   GOD 

onrs  through  their  miglity  exigency,  with  the  favoring 
aid  of  God's  Spirit,  we  must  proceed  according  to  the 
ordering  of  his  promise.  But  I  will  leave  the  reasons 
in  favor  of  this  order  and  spirit  of  seeking,  and  come 
to  a  few  practical  uses  of  the  subject. 

1.  And,  first,  let  me  say,  the  subject  has  a  voice  of 
instruction  and  appeal  for  the  Christian.  Your  work 
is  not  finished  on  becoming  a  Christian.  It  is  only 
begun.  The  consecration  of  your  soul,  coming  with 
that  to  the  cross,  and  laying  it  there,  was  the  first 
introductory  stroke  of  service  done  for  Christ.  Your 
Master's  interest  is  now  your  object.  Seek  first  the 
growth,  the  progress  of  his  kingdom.  This  your  end 
of  life.  Be  it  yours  ;  and  let  every  thing  you  do  have 
this  end  ;  all  desires,  solicitudes,  enterprises,  terminate 
here.  This  thing  I  am  about  to  do,  how  will  it  affect 
the  kingdom  of  God  ?  These  gains  reached  after,  they 
are  first  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  Gold  has  its  more 
than  golden  preciousness  in  its  power  to  help  on  the 
kingdom  of  God.  This  everywhere  uppermost  in  your 
heart ;  this  the  great  bent  of  your  soul,  the  marked 
trait  in  your  character,  everywhere  a  studying  and  an 
acting  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  Let  it  be  so  with  any 
Christian*:  there  is  an  efficacy  in  that  character  the 
world  will  feel ;  an  integrity  and  consistency  in  it 
even  wicked  men  will  honor.  Let  it  be  so  with  the 
church  generally,  and  all  her  depressing  and  defiling 
sordidness  will  be  done  away,  and  her  clogs  thrown 
off,  and  her  bright  shining  blaze  out,  and  her  achiev- 
ing triumphs  signally  open.  The  kingdom  and  the 
righteousness,  this  is  first  with  the  Christian.  If  not, 
then  there  is  no  Christian  there.  If  first  for  yourself, 
then  you  will  seek  it  for  your  children.    Make  it  appear 


AND    HIS   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  257 

all  through  your  plans  that  you  have  no  wish  they 
should  figure  in  the  world,  be  great  or  rich  or  honor- 
able ;  but  that  the  burden  of  desire  all  presses  at  this 
point,  that  they  may  be  good.  No  matter  what  else, 
if  only  Christians,  with  hearts  to  do  Christian  work. 
No  matter  where  they  labor,  or  how  much  they  suffer, 
or  how  obscurely  they  die ;  it  is  enough  if  they  did, 
faithfully,  Christian  work  ;  and  died,  peacefully,  the 
Christian  death.  That  parent  is  infinitely  satisfied  ;  is 
ready  for  the  final  prayer,  Noiv  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  m  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation. 

2.  I  remark,  once  more,  that  Christ's  great  prin- 
ciple, or  law  of  human  enterprise  as  announced  in  the 
text,  comes  with  a  tone  of  reproof  to  the  engrossed 
worldling.  It  reproves  him  for  the  bold  daring  found 
in  his  procedure,  fetching  clean  about  the  divinely 
authorized  schedule  of  affairs,  putting  that  last  which 
God  puts  first ;  and  this,  most  evidently,  done  without 
reason,  done  in  violent  counteraction  of  reason.  What 
else  is  this  than  blind  and  passionate  audacity  ?  It  is 
something  deeper  and  deadlier  than  this ;  proof  unde- 
niable of  a  monstrous,  yea,  a  despotic  depravity ;  des- 
potic for  its  power  of  degrading  and  crushing,  bringing 
what  is  truly  great  and  noble  to  do  beneath  a  menial 
work  in  servile  chains.  We  do  find  here  the  marks 
of  a  violent  depravity  in  this  inverted  order  of  things. 
Your  souls,  as  God  made  them,  are  deathless  and 
great ;  made  with  capacities  for  the  infinite  and  eternal ; 
capacities  which  reach  upward  and  outward,  and  which 
time  and  the  world  can  never  fill.  You  cannot  satisfy 
them  here.  You  know  you  cannot.  So  far  as  you 
have  made  trial,  you  have  failed  ;  and  all  have  failed 
who  have  tried.      All  experience  and  all  testimony 

17 


258  SEEK    FIRST    THE    KINGDOM    OF   GOD 

come,  in  emphatic  liarmony,  to  this  point ;  God's  and 
man's,  tliat  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  all  agree. 
And  yet  you  go  right  in  for  this  :  hy  your  conduct 
saying.  This  first;  the  freshness  of  my  youth  on  this; 
tlie  fountain  and  vigor  of  my  manhood  on  this ;  the 
feculence  of  my  age,  God,  and  the  things  of  God,  may 
have  that ;  my  dried  heart  and  shaking  bones,  God 
and  his  kingdom  may  have  those.  It  is  not  the  insult 
virtually  offered  ;  that  is  not  the  worst  of  it.  It  is  the 
violence,  the  mortal  injury  done  to  the  nobler  powers. 
It  is  that,  with  the  greatness  God  made  you  with,  you 
will  not  go  first,  foremost,  for  the  greatness  he  made 
you  for ;  first,  and  all  through,  for  that  greatness  of 
possession  which  so  sublimely  answers  to  this  greatness 
of  capacity. 

Let  me  touch,  in  closing,  upon  the  practicableness 
of  putting  this  matter  as  it  should  be.  The  reason- 
ableness, we  have  seen,  shines  as  the  cloudless  noon. 
The  practicableness  is  just  as  clear.  It  is  to  do  the 
bidding  of  reason,  and  just  put  the  great  thing  first : 
God's  first,  put  it  your  first.  Put  it  thus,  intelligently, 
decisively,  resolvedly,  and  rivet  it  there.  Inasmuch 
as  it  is  first,  say  it  shall  be  first.  Young  man,  say 
you  this.  All  ye  in  the  opening  of  life,  the  same.  I 
know  what  your  reason  says,  and  what  your  conscience 
says ;  but  your  will,  your  soul's  executive  purpose, 
does  this  say  first? 

Would  that  some  among  us  might  be  moved  thus  to 
say,  writing  it  deep  and  clear,  where  nothing  shall 
ever  bury  or  blot  it.  First,  the  kmgdom  of  Cfod.  Yes, 
henceforth  I  will.  Though  I  go  long  without  light  or 
cheer  ;  no  matter  ;  it  is  fixed,  this  first.  Companions 
may  taunt,  the  world  may  frown  :  I  care  not ;  it  is 


AND   HIS  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  259 

written,  this  first.  My  friends,  you  see  I  have  got 
your  duty  all  into  a  word.  That  word :  will  you  do 
it  ?  If  you  will,  you  are  made  for  two  worlds.  That 
word  is  the  gem  in  a  passage  which  together  makes  a 
clustering  and  weighty  treasure,  and  leads  the  soul 
into  possession  of  all  the  weightier  treasures  of  God 
and  eternity.  Follow  it.  Do  it.  The  pith  and  gist 
of  all  do  not  forget.  Now,  on  to  the  end,  for  ever, 
with  the  whole  gathered  and  expended  powers  of  my 
being,  First,  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  his  righteous- 
ness. 


XXII. 

CHRIST'S  BODILY  AND   SPIRITUAL  HEALINGS. 

And  again  he  entered  into  Capernaum  after  some  days  ;  and 
it  was  noised  that  he  was  in  the  house.  And  straightioay 
many  were  gathered  together,  insomuch  that  there  ivas  no 
room  to  receive  them,  no,  not  so  much  as  about  the  door : 
and  he  preached  the  word  unto  them.  And  they  come  unto 
him,  bringing  one  sick  of  the  palsy,  which  was  borne  of 
four.  And  when  they  could  not  come  nigh  unto  him  for 
the  press,  they  uncovered  the  roof  where  he  was :  and  when 
they  had  brohen  it  up,  they  let  down  the  bed  wherein  the 
sick  of  the  palsy  lay.  When  Jesus  saw  their  faith,  he  said 
unto  the  sick  of  the  palsy.  Son,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee. 
But  there  were  certain  of  the  scribes  sitting  there,  and 
reasoning  in  their  hearts.  Why  doth  this  man  thus  speak 
blasphemies  ?  Who  can  forgive  sins  but  God  only  ?  And 
immediately,  when  Jesus  perceived  in  his  spirit  that  they 
so  reasoned  within  themselves,  he  said  unto  them,  Why 
reason  ye  these  things  in  your  hearts  ?  Whether  is  it  easier 
to  say  to  the  sick  of  the  palsy.  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  : 
or  to  say,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk  ?  But 
that  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath  power  on 
earth  to  forgive  sins  {he  saith  to  the  sick  of  the  palsy),  I 
say  unto  thee,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  thy  way 
into  thine  house.     And  immediately  he  arose,  took  up  the 


Christ's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.     261 

bed,  and  went  forth  before  them  all;  insomuch  that  they 
were  all  amazed,  and  glorified  God,  saying,  We  never  saw 
it  on  this  fashion.  —  Mark  ii.  1-12. 

IV  yTARK,  in  his  gospel,  makes  a  selection  from  the 
-'-'-^  miracles  of  our  Lord ;  his  object  being  to  illus- 
trate the  two  great  functions  of  his  prophetic  office,  — 
his  teaching  and  his  miracles.  And  he,  in  part,  chooses 
those  that  gave  rise  to  some  of  his  pregnant  occasions 
of  teaching.  Christ  was  evidently  engaged  in  the 
work  of  teaching  when  the  palsied  man  was  thrust 
before  him,  to  engage  the  interposition  of  his  healing 
power.  We  have  here  an  instance  of  the  wonderful 
effect  of  his  miraculous  healings  in  drawing  the  crowd 
together.  Such  was  the  fame  that  attached  to  him 
from  his  words  and  deeds  in  Galilee,  that,  so  soon  as 
it  was  known  he  was  in  a  certain  house  in  Capernaum, 
immediately  a  great  throng  pressed,  and  those  not 
able  to  enter  stood  without,  and  the  Lord  preached 
the  word  unto  them.  Here  occurred  the  miracle  of 
healing  the  man  sick  of  palsy.  Mark,  probably,  selected 
this  and  drew  it  out  in  such  detail,  inasmuch  as  it  fur- 
nished the  occasion  of  the  first  hostile  manifestation 
toward  Christ.  Here  we  hear  the  first  mutter  of  that 
enmity  which  grew  by  feeding  on  his  goodness,  taking 
to  itself  new  and  sharper  exasperations  from  every 
new  deed  of  mercy,  till,  at  length,  it  satiated  its  greed 
of  hate  in  his  death  and  blood.  The  subject  of  this 
healing  was  a  man  made  helpless  by  palsy,  probably, 
suffering  in  his  body  from  the  disease  ;  and  also,  doubt- 
less, suffering  a  keener  anguish  in  his  mind  ;  his 
disease,  as  it  is  conjectured,  having  been  caused  by 
sinful  excesses,  it  so  stirred  within  him  the  sense  of 


262      cheist's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings. 

guilt,  that  he  felt  it  to  be  in  punishment  for  his  sins. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  the  disease  of  his  body  and  the 
disease  of  his  soul  seem  to  have  been  closely  connected, 
so  that  each  re-acted  upon  and  aggravated  the  other. 

He  was  home  of  four.  But  the  diseased  and  help- 
less man,  we  think,  was  the  most  earnest  of  the  four 
to  find  or  force  a  way  to  Jesus.  It  was  he  that 
begged  of  them  to  persist ;  very  likely  that  devised 
the  plan  of  breaking  a  passage  through  the  roof. 
It  was  his  twofold  anguish,  the  torment  without, 
and  the  far  more  fearful  within,  at  the  very  core 
and  life  of  his  soul,  that  urged  him  on.  His  faith, 
too,  urged  him  on ;  and  he  urged  them  on.  It  is 
said  that  the  four  had  faith  ;  for  Jesus  saw  their 
faith.  He,  too,  we  must  think,  had  faith  in  the 
Lord's  ability  to  relieve  him  of  his  trouble.  The  Lord, 
in  his  power  of  insight,  penetrating  to  the  man's 
inmost  soul,  seeing  the  primal  and  deeper  trouble 
there,  and  the  strong  desire  for  relief,  and  the  silent 
and  pleading  faith,  began,  in  his  process  of  cure,  with 
his  soul ;  knowing  that  no  cure  could  satisfy  him  that 
was  only  external,  giving  life  to  the  dead  and  withered 
muscles,  leaving  dead,  unforgiven,  unrelieved,  the  bur- 
dened, anguished  spirit.  Hence  the  Lord's  abrupt 
and  profounder  utterance,  even  before  he  or  they  had 
spoken  :  Son,  thy  sins  he  forgiven  thee.  This  word, 
which  brought  relief  and  cheer  to  that  suffering  spirit, 
operated  to  quicken  the  cavilling  malice  of  certain 
religionists  in  attendance.  No  satisfaction  to  them 
that  one  had  come,  purporting  to  lift  some  of  the  ills 
so  heavy  upon  our  sinning  race  ;  such  sticklers  were 
they  for  the  honor  of  God  ;  so  jealous  of  any  encroach- 
ment  upon  the  divine   prerogatives ;  but  really  and 


Christ's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.      263 

only  jealous  lest  the  rising  prophet  of  Galilee  should 
overshadow  thera,  seated  and  fattening,  as  they  were,  in 
their  prescriptive  place. 

These  scribes  silently  brooded  their  grave  accusings. 
But  these  their  injurious  thoughts  were  assailing  words 
in  the  Lord's  ear.  And  he  turned  at  once  upon  them  in 
a  track  of  reasoning  which  summarily  confounded,  and, 
as  antagonists,  annihilated  them.  Their  suppressed 
charge  was  that  he  was  guilty  of  blasphemy,  because  he 
assumed  the  right  or  power  to  forgive  sins,  which  be- 
longed only  to  God.  In  that  they  were  right,  that  it 
belongs  only  to  God.  In  the  charge  that  Christ  wrong- 
fully assumed  this,  and  was  guilty  of  the  crime  of  arro- 
gating to  himself  God's  prerogative,  they  were  in  fault. 
His  argument,  of  overthrow  to  them  and  of  vindication 
to  himself,  was  a  word  and  a  work.  In  this  argument 
of  our  Lord,  he  does  not  ask  which  is  easier,  namely, 
to  forgive  sins,  or  instantly  to  cure  a  man  of  the  palsy  ; 
but,  which  is  the  easier  to  say,  Thy  sins  he  forgiven 
thee ;  or  to  say,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk? 
Certainly  the  former  :  to  say.  Thy  sitis  be  forgiven  thee; 
for  if  the  words  do  not  produce  tlie  result,  the  failure 
would  not  appear ;  the  impostor  might  go  unexposed. 
But  to  say  to  a  palsied  man,  Arise,  and  take  up  thy  bed, 
and  walk,  —  if  liis  words  do  not  reach  and  vivify  the 
flaccid  muscles,  and  set  coursing  afresh  the  stagnant 
currents  of  life,  then  the  pretender's  falseness  and 
impotence  are  patent  to  everybody.  The  fact  that  a 
restoring,  and  even  a  re-creating,  power  went  with 
Jesus'  words,  proved  to  all  that  he  had  power  to  for- 
give sins,  and  also  to  waken  the  soul  dead  in  sin  to  a 
new  spiritual  life.  Christ  virtually  says  in  this.  By 
doing  that  which  is  capable  of  being  put  to  the  proof, 


264      cheist's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings. 

I  vindicate  ray  right  and  power  to  do  that  which  is 
incapable  of  being  proved.  That  ye  may  know  that  the 
Son  of  man  hath  power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins  (he 
saith  to  the  sick  of  the  palsy^,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise, 
and  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  thy  way  into  thine  house. 
And  immediately  he  arose,  took  up  the  bed,  and  went 
forth  before  them  all ;  went  through  the  before  densely 
packed  throng.  This  man,  who  could  not  get  through 
this  mass-gathering  when  on  his  way  to  Christ,  but 
had  to  approach  him  by  stealth  and  violence,  now, 
the  cure,  the  redemption  being  wrought  upon  him, 
finds  the  same  crowd  ready  to  open  and  let  him  forth  ; 
and  he  walks  through  them  in  a  sort  of  triumph,  amid 
the  acclaim  of  voices,  ascribing  glory  to  God,  and 
saying.  We  never  saw  it  on  this  fashion ;  whilst  these 
whipped  and  sanctimonious  trappers  doubtless  sneaked 
away  in  the  shame  of  their  defeat,  and  in  the  deeper 
infamy  of  their  utterly  craven  spirit  and  purpose. 
And  then  there  stood  forth  from  this  instance  of  heal- 
ing, demonstrated  by  it  to  the  faith  and  even  the 
senses  of  people,  the  glorious  doctrine,  that  there  .is 
forgiveness  with  God,  and  Christ,  as  God,  has  power 
to  forgive  sins.  The  ground  of  forgiveness,  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  mysterious  Victim  by  which  the  forgiveness 
was  made  possible,  is  here  not  at  all  touched ;  only 
the  fact  is  given,  that  Jesus  has  power  to  forgive 
sins. 

Most  intimate,  in  this  instance,  find  we  the  connec- 
tion between  our  Lord's  work  of  bodily  healing  and 
his  greater  and  ultimate  work  of  spiritual  healing,  of 
forgiving  and  redeeming  souls.  It  is  very  obvious  here 
to  state,  that  the  connection  or  relation  between  the 
two  is  that  of  an  analogy  ;  and  most  striking,  iustruc- 


Christ's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.     265 

tive,  encouraging,  inspiriting  even,  are  these  analogies. 
This,  doubtless,  was  one  main  intent  of  our  Lord  in 
these  manifold  cases  and  diversities  of  healing,  to 
impress  upon  the  minds  of  the  people  at  once  the 
great  doctrine,  and  also  the  subordinate  processes,  of 
redemption  through  Jesus  Christ. 

My  object  in  what  remains  is  to  suggest  some  lessons 
that  come  to  us  from  the  analogy  of  certain  diseases, 
and  from  the  fact  and  process  of  their  cure ;  lessons 
•which  bear  on  the  fact  and  cure  of  our  great  spiritual 
disease.     The  first  lesson  suggested  is, — 

1.  That  the  main  thing  now  wanting  is,  that  the 
people  everywhere  be  made  sensible  that  they  are 
spiritually  diseased.  This  must  be  if  the  people,  to 
any  extent,  are  to  be  saved.  It  was  a  grand  maxim 
our  Lord  uttered,  on  one  of  his  healing  occasions, 
They  that  he  whole  need  7iot  a  physician,  but  they  that 
are  sick.  The  people  then  crowded  upon  him  as  they 
did,  because  they  knew  that  they  were  sick.  They  could 
not  help  knowing  it,  when  the  evidence  that  pierced 
and  distressed  them  so  was  in  every  nerve  and  fibre  a 
ceaseless  throb  of  agony.  Hence,  in  the  pressure  of  the 
literal  malady,  they  sought  out  the  physician.  They 
could  not  stay  at  home ;  were  carried  to  him,  if  they 
could  not  go.  But,  though  a  physician  still  of  undimin- 
ished efficacy,  the  people  now,  except  here  and  there 
one,  do  not  repair  to  him.  They  are  sick,  mortal  dis- 
ease is  working  in  them ;  but  they  do  not  know  it, 
have  no  sense  of  it ;  and  the  most  terrible  and  fatal 
feature  of  their  case  is,  that  they  do  not  admit  it,  that 
they  will  not  come  to  the  light,  where  their  deeds  shall 
be  reproved.  And  we  fear  they  never  will,  many  of 
them.     Indeed,  we  know  they  never  will,  till  the  Holy 


266      chkist's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.    • 

Spirit  comes  down  and  fills  their  souls  with  the  con- 
victive  light  and  influence.  To-day,  my  brethren,  this 
is  our  great  necessity,  the  presence  of  the  convictive 
Spirit ;  this  the  great  duty  of  Christians,  to  bring  down 
the  Holy  Spirit  by  the  strength  and  persistence  of  their 
praying. 

2.  We  learn  from  the  analogies  of  our  subject,  not 
only  that  men  are  diseased,  but  also  the  fearful  depth, 
the  type  and  tenacious  hold,  of  this  disease  of  sin 
in  the  human  soul.  The  outer  or  bodily  diseases, 
those  our  Lord  dealt  with  when  he  moved  amongst 
men,  seem  to  have  been  chosen  by  him  as  symbols  or 
descriptives  of  the  inner  and  spiritual.  For  example, 
the  blind,  even  those  born  thus,  came  to  Jesus  and 
were  healed.  Here  the  counterpart  of  one  of  sin's  ter- 
rible qualities  or  powers,  —  that  of  blinding  the  sovil, 
and  making  men  choose  the  darkness,  and  love  to  live 
and  even  riot  in  the  darkness,  and  refuse  to  come  to 
the  light,  lest  their  deeds  should  he  re]yroved.  Another 
example  was  the  palsy.  In  this  we  have  set  forth  to 
us  the  impotence  of  death  itself  diffused  all  through 
the  body.  This,  the  symbol  of  the  soul's  utter  weak- 
ness and  dependence  on  God.  Another  and  repeated 
case  in  the  Lord's  healings  was  that  of  the  leper.  This, 
so  to  speak,  a  religious  disease,  a  singularly  symbolic 
disease,  visibly  representing  more  of  the  real  proper- 
ties of  sin  than  any  other,  was  singled  out  as  a  type 
to  the  Jew  of  the  shocking  direfulness  of  sin ;  that  it 
might  ever  be  before  their  eyes  how  loathsome  sin  is ; 
how  contagious  it  is ;  touching  it  is  taking  it ;  and 
taking  it  is  having  it  for  ever,  unless  God  interpose 
and  help.  The  leper,  he  was  put  apart,  in  gloom  and 
hopelessness,  to  be  and  to  suffer,  as  a  sign  of  corrup- 


Christ's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.     267 

tion  and  certain  death.  The  brooding  despair  of  the 
leper  from  his  immemorial  exclusion  comes  out  in  the 
faltering  speech  of  that  first  one  who  ventured  upon 
Christ,  Lor-dy  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst.  The  man  doubted 
if  he  would.  No  other  being  would.  Even  the  civili- 
ties and  the  humanities  of  religion  were  all  against  him. 
No  wonder  his  mind  drooped,  even  before  the  compas- 
sionate Jesus,  where  all  others  had  found  help.  And 
oh,  how  that  recognizing  word  must  have  permeated 
and  thrilled  him  when  Jesus  said,  /  ivill.  And  not 
only  the  word,  but  the  touch  was  added.  Though 
against  the  law,  he  touched  him,  and  the  separating 
wall  fell ;  and  the  disease,  the  most  vivid,  the  sacra- 
mental type  of  all  woe  and  sin,  instantly  left  him. 

Still  another  of  the  typifying  eases  of  suffering  was 
the  demoniac.  These  cases  are  given  in  order  to  set 
forth  the  madness  of  sin.  So  the  divine  word  says  of 
the  sinner.  Madness  is  in  their  heart  while  they  live,  and 
after  that  they  go  to  the  dead.  The  Lord  of  all,  in  con- 
structing this  symbol,  in  making  a  fit  and  adequate 
representation  of  the  madness  of  sin,  availed  himself  of 
help  from  hell  itself;  made  use  of  spirits  from  beneath, 
who  were  acting  through  the  organisms  of  this  manhood. 
We  read  the  inspired  descriptions  of  these  wretched 
men,  and  in  this  we  see  a  type  of  the  madness  of  sin. 
How  dreadful  the  case,  as  we  behold  it  in  that  wild 
man  of  Gadara,  who  took  up  his  abode  in  the  tombs, 
there  to  live  with  the  dead,  and  stretch  his  tortured 
frame  on  ghastly  bones  and  skeletons.  In  the  parox- 
ysms of  his  huge  woe,  he  tore  apart  the  massive 
fetters  as  though  mere  flaxen  strings,  and  then  ranged 
abroad  in  a  horrid  freedom,  uttering  shrieks  and  yells, 
that  reverberated  among  the  mountains  and  echoed 


268     Christ's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings. 

over  the  sea,  so  that  no  one  dared  pass  that  way ; 
thus  infuriate  was  he  with  the  demons  and  the  hell 
within,  and  bloody  all  over  with  the  gashing  stones. 
There  was  no  extravagance  in  this  symbol  the  Lord 
raised  up  and  put  forth.  All  was  done  to  teach  men 
everywhere  the  madness  of  their  sin.  We  behold,  and 
cry,  Oh,  the  madness  of  sin.  For  all  this  there  is  a  cure. 
So  our  blessed  Lord  demonstrated  by  his  actual  and 
oft-repeated  curing ;  curing,  as  he  did,  every  malignant 
type  and  form  of  sin.  The  power  is  his.  But  there 
is  a  responsibility  upon  all  who  would  draw  that  power 
to  their  own  help  and  redemption. 

3.  This  is  another  of  the  unquestioned  teachings  of 
our  subject ;  namely,  that  those  who  would  have  part 
in  this  soul-healing,  be  saved  themselves,  must  also 
take  part  in  the  process  by  which  the  Lord  reaches 
the  benign  result.  In  almost  every  instance,  the  Lord 
required  faith,  on  the  part  of  the  sufferer,  as  the  con- 
dition of  his  recovering  power.  Believe  ye  that  I  am 
able  to  do  this  ?  How  reasonable,  when  we  bring 
our  ruined  souls  to  him,  that  we  believe  him  able  to 
wash  out  the  stain  and  break  the  chain.  If  we  go  to 
Jesus  aright,  it  is  with  two  ruling  ideas :  First,  I 
know  I  cannot,  second,  I  am  sure  he  can,  do  it  all ; 
and  do  it,  if  he  chooses  to  do,  without  any  intervening 
or  subsidiary  duties.  Yet  this  is  not  his  way.  He 
said,  rather,  Stretch  forth  thine  hand.  Take  up  thy  bed, 
and  walk.  "Wear,  for  the  time,  this  plaster  of  clay. 
Go,  wash  in  the  pool  of  Siloam.  The  moment  the 
sufferer  did  these  things  prescribed,  Christ  did  the 
rest.  If  any  applicant  had  not  done  the  prescribed 
thing,  Christ,  on  his  part,  would  have  wrought  no 
relief. 


chkist's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings.     269 

Christ,  in  the  soul's  cure,  now  says,  Adjust  your 
quarrel  with  that  neighbor  or  friend.  Set  right  that 
defrauding  act.  Go,  sell  that  idol,  property.  Relax 
the  sordid  grasp.  Go,  enter  into  thy  closet.  Bow 
in  audible  prayer,  in  humble  confession.  How  many 
things  to  be  done  crowd  upon  the  sinner.  If  at  all 
awakened,  how  hard  they  press.  And  whatever  this 
word  of  God,  or  God's  word  within,  enjoins  to  do, 
though  it  may  seem  a  trivial  thing,  a  mere  outward 
matter,  still,  let  him  do  that  thing ;  not  say.  It  can 
be  done  only  after  I  am  converted  :  I  will  wait  till  I 
am  converted,  then  do  it.  No,  not  so.  It  is  a  thing 
on  the  way  to  be  converted ;  a  thing  often  of  the  very 
article  and  instance  of  conversion ;  the  very  pivot  on 
which  every  thing  in  conversion  turns.  Doing  the 
outward  duty  because  Christ  enjoins  it,  and  because 
you  have  a  waking  confidence  in  him,  is  the  receiving 
from  him  a  heart  to  do  the  whole.  This,  the  outward, 
done,  the  light  breaks  ;  this  done,  the  chain  parts ; 
this  done,  the  heart  melts ;  this  done,  the  soul's  joy 
and  praise  leap  forth. 

4.  I  remark  again,  that  we  learn  from  these  outer 
cures  of  the  Lord  somewhat  of  the  true  tone  and 
spirit  of  application  when  we  apply  to  Jesus  for  the 
spiritual  cure.  When  these  sick  and  crushed  ones 
came,  or  when  friends  came  and  asked  for  them,  it 
was  with  a  wonderful  brevity  of  praying ;  the  intense- 
ness  at  the  heart  compelling  the  briefness  at  the  lips. 
Tliat  mother,  it  was  a  single  word  by  which  she  re- 
lieved her  heart  at  its  point  of  breaking :  Lord,  help 
me,  oh,  help  me.  Tliat  father,  it  was  by  a  single  sen- 
tence he  conquered :  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou  7nine 
unbelief.     The  great  want  they  came  with  was,  as  it 


270     cheist's  bodily  and  spiritual  healings. 

were,  hove  rudely  right  into  the  face  of  the  blessed 
Master.  This  I  want,  that  I  may  receive  my  sight. 
Lord,  if  thou  canst,  do  it,  oh,  do  it.  By  this  heart 
and  style  of  praying,  they  brought  the  Infinite  under, 
brought  all  his  love  and  power  into  subserviency  to 
their  welfare. 

And  have  not  we  an  errand  there  ?  These  souls  are 
sick,  are  dead  in  sin  ;  and  he,  the  all-sufficient  Saviour  ; 
and  life  is  fleeting ;  the  present,  the  only  opportunity  ; 
soon,  soon  it  must  be  done,  or  all  is  lost ;  now  the 
accepted  time,  the  day  of  salvation.  And  have  we  not, 
too,  all  this  history  to  encourage  us  ?  These  great 
promises  given ;  these  mighty  works  of  his,  done  to 
put  strength  into  our  faith  ;  that  divine  heart,  once 
pierced  for  us ;  that  tenderness,  and  that  quickness  to 
heal,  shown  through  all  the  earthly  path  he  trod  ; 
those  boundless  riches  and  efficacies  of  grace  and  of 
life,  all  free,  —  we  have  the  whole,  simply  by  asking. 
Here,  now,  we  are  ;  and  that  Christ  is  here.  Is  he 
not  here  ?  The  sinners,  are  they  here  ?  Your  sin, 
is  it  upon  you  ?  Do  you  feel  it  ?  And  are  you  ready 
to  confess  it,  and  to  go  to  him  that  he  may  help  you  ? 
Go ;  go,  friend  ;  and  let  your  heart  say,  as  you  go, — 

"  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me. 
And  that  thou  bidst  me  come  to  thee, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come." 


xxni. 

HELP  THOU  MINE   UNBELIEF. 

And  straightway  the  father  of  the  child  cried  out,  and  said 
with  tears,  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief.  — 
Mark  ix.  24. 

npHESE  are  the  words  of  a  father  who  brought  his 
-*-  son  to  Christ,  that  he  might  be  delivered  from  a 
sore  visitation.  The  son  was  a  great  sufferer,  and 
the  parent  was  greatly  afflicted.  He  presents  to  Jesus 
a  strong  case.  He  pleads  with  great  earnestness :  If 
thou  canst  do  any  thing.,  have  compassion.  The  Saviour's 
reply  was,  If  thou  canst  believe,  I  can  do.  Then  came 
the  words  of  the  text,  tliey  came  with  tears :  Lord,  I 
believe ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief ;  and  they  have  struck 
a  responsive  chord  in  unnumbered  hearts  since.  No 
form  of  words,  perhaps,  has  been  so  frequently  adopted 
by  those  who  have  come  in  sincere  prayer  to  Christ  as 
these  :  Lord  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief. 

I  shall  take  the  words  out  of  the  particular  connec- 
tion in  which  they  occur,  and  consider  them  in  their 
general  application  and  use.  So  considered,  the  fol- 
lowing points  may  be  regarded  as  involved :  — 

First,  A  true  faith.  Second,  An  imperfect  faith. 
Third,  The  deep  feeling  that  it  was  an  imperfect 
faith.  Fourth,  The  feeling  of  the  imperfection,  as 
conducive  to  the  success  of  the  application. 


272  HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF. 

I.  What  is  a  true  faith,  or  tlie  faith  that  is  made 
the  condition  of  the  soul's  acceptance  ?  Faith  is  one 
simple,  intelligible  thing  or  exercise.  If  presented 
as  a  single,  simple  exercise,  it  may  be  understood ;  it 
can  hardly  fail  to  be  understood.  Sometimes  we  resort 
to  a  complexity  in  our  description,  which  may  lead  to 
some  perplexity  in  the  apprehensions  of  our  hearers ; 
as  when  we  split  faith  minutely  into  various  kinds, 
such  as  speculative  faith,  historic  faith,  evangelical 
faith,  the  latter  only  true  saving  faith.  The  confusion 
arises  just  here,  that  while  there  may  be  an  intel- 
lectual faith,  or  an  historic  faith,  which  is  not  sav- 
ing, there  cannot  be  a  saving  faith,  which  is  not 
both  intellectual  and  historical.  Saving  faith  is  all 
the  rest.  It  takes  in  all  the  kinds  and  varieties 
of  faith.  You  have  true  faith,  we  will  suppose, 
that  which  will  save  your  soul.  When  the  propo- 
sition, and  the  evidence  thereof,  that  God  created 
the  heaven  and  the  earth,  or,  that  he  overthrew  the 
Egyptians  in  the  Red  Sea,  comes  before  your  mind, 
you  believe  those  liistoric  statements ;  and  your  belief 
is  based  on  your  confidence  in  the  divine  testimony. 
That  God  overthrew  Babylon  requires  only  an  intel- 
lectual assent.  The  proposition  that  he  is  the  Supreme 
God,  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever,  demands  of  you,  as 
a  moral  being,  something  more  than  tlie  assent  of  the 
intellect.  To  believe  that  proposition  is  to  believe  in 
God.  If  the  faith  in  God  is  genuine,  it  is  attended  and 
followed  with  reverence,  submission,  love,  obedience. 
If  Christ  be  the  object  of  faith,  and  the  faith  is  genuine, 
it  regards  him  as  a  Saviour;  it  defines  and  grasps  the 
whole  doctrine  and  mode  of  saving  through  Christ.  It 
is  attended  and  followed  with  trust  in  that  person  and 


HELP   THOU   MINE   UNBELIEF.  273 

in  the  mode  of  saving  by  him ;  and  there  is  the  yield- 
ing up  of  the  soul  to  be  saved  in  that  way,  desiring 
no  other ;  and  there  is  not  only  the  trust,  but  the 
love  of  the  soul,  and  the  obedience  of  the  life.  The 
faith  in  that  object  calls  for  these,  and  they  are 
given ;  and  they  become  the  fruit  and  evidence  of  the 
faith. 

We  may  go  on  and  make  the  entire  circle  of  the 
objects  of  religious  faith,  and  we  shall  find  that 
genuine  faith  is  a  perfect  unity  and  simplicity,  em- 
bracing more  or  less,  according  to  the  demands  of 
the  object  of  it ;  the  object  now  demanding  a  mere 
and  an  easy  intellectual  assent ;  again,  demanding 
a  difficult  and  profound  submission  of  the  intel- 
lect ;  still  again,  demanding  the  heart's  full  affec- 
tion ;  but,  all  through,  the  same  principle  may  be 
operating,  a  true  faith.  I  have  gone  into  this  sort 
of  description  of  faith,  as  preparatory  to  the  next 
statement. 

II.  That  there  may  be  a  true  faith  with  defects. 
And  my  aim  here  is,  not  so  much  to  show  the  fact  of 
defect,  as  the  character  of  the  defects.  That  there 
may  be,  yea,  must  be,  defects  in  this  particular,  no 
one  having  any  knowledge  or  experience  in  human 
infirmity  will  be  disposed  to  question.  And  the  char- 
acter of  the  defects,  the  parts  in  which  they  may  or 
do  inhere,  is  equally  plain.  The  defect  may  be  in  the 
intellectual  apprehension,  or  in  the  knowledge  whicli 
is  the  basis  of  that  apprehension.  Suppose  the  object 
of  the  faith  to  be  Christ  as  a  Saviour,  the  Saviour  of  my 
soul.  Christ  the  Being  who  is  to  do  that  great  work 
for  me,  if  it  ever  be  done,  I  may  be  measurably  igno- 
rant of;  for  the  case  in  the  text  does  not  admit  of  wil- 
ls 


274  HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF. 

fulness.  I  do  not  know,  do  not  apprehend  fully,  the 
attributes  of  greatness  and  of  power  which  reside  in  the 
person  of  that  Deliverer.  My  intellectual  apprehension 
does  not  bring  him  up  in  competency  for  the  work  I  hope 
for,  at  his  hands.  Or  the  faith  may  be  defective,  not  at 
the  point  of  the  Deliverer's  ability,  but  of  his  benevo- 
lence, his  willingness  to  save ;  a  defect  in  not  taking 
hold  of  him  as  one  who,  having  the  power,  has  also 
the  heart  to  do,  and  wlio  will  do,  the  needed  thing. 
Here  we  strike  a  defect  which  pertains  to  the  heart, 
the  feelings,  the  affections.  There  is  not  the  confi- 
dence, the  trust,  the  reliance,  there  should  be.  Some- 
times the  feelings  are  dull,  because  the  intellectual 
perception  is  very  dim.  They  must  be  so,  in  such  a 
case.  If  I  come  to  Christ  for  help;  and  do  not  clearly 
perceive  his  ability  to  help  me,  my  faith  cannot  be 
very  lively ;  the  emotional  part  cannot  be  very  vivid, 
or  fruitfully  expectant.  So,  too,  the  head  may  be 
clear  in  its  perception  of  the  olyect,  wliilst  the  heart 
fails  to  grasp,  to  lay  hold  of,  the  object.  The  affec- 
tions, the  feelings  of  desire,  confidence,  trust,  are  in 
this  case  wanting:  the  defect  is  very  often  in  this 
part. 

The  objects  of  faith  may  be  invisible  realities,  the 
things  of  the  soul  and  eternity ;  all  clear,  grand,  over- 
shadowing, to  the  mind's  view;  but  the  heart's  interest 
lags  behind.  The  head  says,  the  spiritual,  the  eternal 
interest  ought  to  be  first  and  uppermost;  but  the  heart 
suffers  the  world  to  be  in  the  lead.  Having  shown, 
thus  far,  that  there  may  be  a  true  faith,  and  yet  a  de- 
fect of  faith,  the  next  statement  is,  — 

HI.  That  in  all  cases  of  genuine  faith,  the  defects 
of  the  faith,  so  far  as  they  exist  or  are  discovered,  will 


HELP   THOU   MINE   UNBELIEF.  275 

be  matters  of  quick  acknowledgment,  and  of  deep  and 
humble  feeling.  This  is  only  the  statement  of  a 
specific  truth,  which  comes  under  the  general  princi- 
ple, that  the  instant  any  thing  truly  good,  riglit,  holy, 
is  introduced  into  the  character  by  the  grace  of  God, 
all  that  is  wrong  in  that  character  becomes  visible 
and  painful  in  its  wrongness,  as  it  was  not  before. 
Before,  all  was  dark  and  all  was  hidden ;  the  leprous 
skin  then  passed  for  fair  as  any.  But  the  moment  the 
light  of  truth  and  grace  was  introduced,  tlie  odious 
taint  appeared.  All  that  was  foul  stood  hatefully 
forth.  On  this  principle,  the  moment  the  gleam  of 
faith  enters  the  soul,  the  darkness  and  the  baseness  of 
unbelief  glooms  forth.  Hence  it  follows  that,  just  so 
soon  as  one  has  faith,  he  feels  and  laments  the  pres- 
ence or  the  prevalence  of  the  opposite  quality,  that 
there  is  so  much  of  unbelief  in  him ;  so  unreasonable 
is  it,  and  so  obstructing  to  all  the  purposes  and 
achievements  of  the  Christian  life.  Especially  does 
he  feel  the  defects,  the  imperfection,  and  feebleness  of 
his  faith,  when  the  greatness  of  the  objects  of  his 
faith,  and  the  interests  affected  by  the  prayer  of  his 
faith,  come  clearly  before  his  mind.  So  was  it  with 
the  father  who  brought  his  suffering  son  to  Christ. 
The  case  of  dreadful  distortion  and  agony,  in  the  per- 
son of  his  son,  was  right  before  this  father's  eyes ;  the 
demoniac  spirits  waked  to  new  wrenching  and  vio- 
lence, as  though  they  knew  the  Deliverer  was  by,  and 
their  time  was  short.  It  was  the  mighty  urgency  of 
the  case,  pressing  on  this  father's  heart  the  impor- 
tance of  the  request  he  came  to  Christ  to  make,  at  the 
moment,  all-important  to  him,  that  his  son  have  help, — 
this  it  was,  that  drove  him  to  that  form  of  prayer :   If 


276  HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF. 

thou  canst  do  any  thing,  Oh,  do  it;  help,  help  us.  This, 
too,  it  was,  which  made  him  feel  the  inadequacy  of  his 
faith.  So  poorly  did  it  compare  with  the  great  object 
of  his  heart,  he  seemed  to  fear  to  trust  it,  aud  fell 
back  upon  the  defect ;  the  defect  which  stared  upon 
him.  While  his  great  necessity  crowded  upon  him, 
his  faith  seemed  as  nothing  in  the  exigency,  so  faint 
as  to  seem  unbelief;  hence  that  peculiar,  persuasive 
cry,  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  tnine  unbelief. 

When  we  pass  into  the  region  of  still  vaster  objects 
and  higher  interests,  where  it  is  not  the  life  of  the 
body,  but  of  the  soul,  —  the  soul,  its  eternal  state,  as 
affected  by  our  measure  of  faith,  and  the  prayer  of 
our  faith ;  when  the  Christian  is  favored  with  a  glimpse 
into  tliis  realm  of  greatness,  all  objects  and  interests 
there  partaking,  as  they  do,  of  a  species  of  infinity, 
soon  to  be  won,  or  to  be  lost,  by  each  and  by  all,  and 
then  turns  and  considers  how  meagre  the  faith  where 
faith  is  so  influential ;  especially  himself,  how  little 
moved  by  the  faith  which  takes  hold  of  such  things, — 
then,  if  ever,  does  he  feel  the  cardinal  defect  ;  and 
fears,  lest  with  him  it  prove  all  defect  and  pretence. 
His  own  soul,  perhaps,  suddenly  called  to  go  into 
eternity  now  trembles  on  the  border,  the  mighty  issue 
hanging  in  doubt  and  just  ready  to  be  determined. 
Only  faith  can  save  it.  Is  there  any  true  faith  there ; 
enough  there  to  save  it  ?  He  falters  before  that  ques- 
tion ;  he  feels  the  fearful  defect  in  that  comparison  ; 
and  he  fortifies  the  doubtful  case  by  retreating,  and 
seeking  refuge  in  the  lowly  cry.  Lord,  I  believe ;  help 
thou  mine  unbelief. 

IV.  I  am  now  prepared  to  show  —  indeed,  I  have 
somewhat  anticipated  the  argument  —  how  it  is,  that 


HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF.  277 

the  realized  deficiency  of  the  faith  stands  related  to  the 
success  of  the  prayer.  Allow  me  a  measure  of  re- 
statement, that  I  may  exhibit  together  the  parts  of 
the  brief  and  very  simple  process. 

1.  First,  it  brings  the  soul  into  that  state  and  pos- 
ture which  is  the  fundamental  condition  of  prayer, — 
humility,  deep  penitence,  utter  self-renunciation.  With 
these  we  may  come  to  God,  if  we  have  nothing  else. 
We  may  have  every  thing  else :  if  we  have  not  these, 
our  coming  to  God  will  be  utterly  vain  and  nugatory. 
The  Bible  everywhere  assures  us,  in  all  its  principles 
and  precepts  and  precedents,  that  this  is  the  one  con- 
dition he  never  dispenses  with ;  and  this  ever  the  elo- 
quent and  prevailing  condition ;  wherever  found,  there, 
too,  is  found  God's  gracious  bestowment.  Very  natural 
that  it  should  be  so ;  altogether  proper  in  my  coming 
to  God  for  the  faith,  the  pardon,  the  righteousness,  that 
I  come  as  one  utterly  needy,  wholly  wanting  these 
things ;  these  things  to  be  and  to  be  received  as 
whole  gifts  at  his  hand  ;  my  very  faith,  before  that 
standard,  to  pass  into  the  category  of  unbelief;  and 
my  soul  is  most  heartily  willing  to  have  it  so,  and 
puts  in,  with  parenthetic  adroitness,  wherever  it  can, 
its  plea.  Lord,  help  thou  mine  unbelief. 

2.  The  second  condition  realized  in  the  sincere 
offering  of  the  form  in  the  text  is,  that  the  soul  is 
brought  to  place  its  whole  confidence  in  God.  This, 
further,  accounts  for  the  success  of  the  approach.  I 
suppose  that  all  self-confidence,  self-reliance,  is  pecu- 
liarly offensive  to  God.  Nothing  more  often  vitiates 
our  doings  and  thwarts  our  success  ;  and  we  do  not 
know  that  the  mischief  is  lurking  and  working,  so  sly, 
insidious  is  it.     And  in  order  to  this,  that  it  may  sue- 


278  HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF. 

ceed  through  iiisidiousness,  it  seizes  upon  something 
good,  something  required,  some  Christian  grace,  and 
turns  that  divinely  begotten  beauty  into  an  ugly  and 
sore  offence.  It  may  be  faith :  for  can  the  Christian 
be  any  thing  or  do  any  thing  without  faith  ?  Can  he 
please  God  without  it  ?  Certainly  not.  And  yet  his 
faith  may  be  the  very  ground  and  instrument  of  his 
displeasing  God.  Faith,  the  great  condition  of  bless- 
ings, may  be  the  peremptory  shutter-out  of  blessings 
from  his  soul  or  his  family  or  his  friends.  Ask  you 
how  ?  Why,  he  is  pleased  with  his  faith.  It  is  so  strong 
and  has  served  him,  heretofore,  so  well ;  he  has  so 
prevailed  with  God  in  the  exercise  of  it,  that  he  has 
insensibly  slid  into  trusting  in  his  faith.  Then  it  is 
powerless,  it  is  nothing  worth.  How  much  better,  I 
was  going  to  say,  if  he  had  none  at  all.  Certainly 
better,  if  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  none,  because 
he  had  so  little,  and  that  little  so  overshadowed  and  per- 
vaded by  the  far  greater  presence  and  measure  of  the 
unbelief;  then,  as  he  comes  to  the  throne,  all  the  self- 
complacency  and  self-reliance  would  be  abolished,  and 
the  whole  confidence  of  the  soul  would  terminate  on 
God,  and  the  whole  energy  of  the  soul  be  gathered 
and  poured  forth  in  the  prayer.  Lord,  I  believe ;  help 
thou  mine  unbelief. 

3.  This  prepares  us  to  see,  thirdly,  how  another 
cardinal  condition  is  secured  by  the  state  of  mind 
which  dictates  the  form  in  the  text,  namely,  earnest- 
ness. These  three  things  will  foster  the  intensest 
earnestness  in  the  soul's  approach  to  God :  the  great- 
ness of  the  object  or  interest  pending ;  the  fact  per- 
ceived that  the  power,  the  help,  is  in  God ;  the  fact 
felt  by  the  soul,  that  there  is  nothing  in  itself  to  be 


HELP   THOU   MINE   UNBELIEF.  279 

relied  on.  If,  now,  the  issue  is  so  amazing ;  if  it  is 
all  of  God ;  if  my  faith  is  hardly  worth  the  name,  so 
kindred  to  and  clogged  by  the  opposite  is  it,  —  can  it 
be  otherwise  than  that  my  cry  to  that  only  Helper 
should,  to  the  last  degree,  be  importunate ;  at  times, 
deeply  impassioned  ?  The  thought  I  may  fail,  where 
failure  would  be  the  loss  of  the  infinite;  the  percep- 
tion that  there  is  so  little  reason  for  or  ground  of 
success,  here  at  home,  yea,  all  here  within  and  all  in 
the  past  discouraging  success ;  yet  success  may  be, 
for  God  is  able  and  God  is  good,  is  ever  ready,  and  it 
is  wholly  with  God, —  there  can  be  but  one  way  for  a 
soul  so  circumstanced  and  so  imbued  to  act ;  namely, 
to  rise  up,  with  humility,  indeed,  but  with  all  the 
resoluteness  which  humility  and  faith  and  the  felt 
want  of  faith  can  inspire,  and  plead  and  persist,  and 
so  take  the  mighty  boon  at  the  hand  of  God,  Lord,  I 
believe;  help  tliou  mine  unbelief. 

In  view  of  this  subject,  I  remark, — 

1.  That  the  spirit  of  these  words  constitutes  a  good 
sign  in  the  attitude  and  experience  of  a  soul  in  view 
of  its  relations  to  God  and  immortality.  And  the 
liopeful  indication  lies  in  the  admirable  and  touching 
humility  they  breathe.  The  great  and  notable  of  this 
world  have  often  and  significantly  taken  to  this  self- 
renouncing  formula.  Mr.  Webster,  in  his  heart's  in- 
clining to  these  words,  directed  them  to  be  engraved 
on  his  tombstone,  as  the  symbol  of  his  soul's  judgment 
and  confidence.  John  Randolph,  long  a  reputed 
atheist,  and,  afterward,  as  he  hoped,  a  Christian, 
found  in  these  words  that  form  and  argument  of 
pi'ayer  by  which,  possibly,  he  prevailed.  "  It  pleased 
God,"  he  said,  "  that,  after  lengths  of  impiety,  my  pride 


280  HELP  THOU  MINE  UNBELIEF. 

should  be  mortified ;  that  by  death  and  desertion  I 
should  lose  my  friends,  till  there  should  not  run,  ex- 
cept in  the  veins  of  a  maniac,  one  drop  of  my  father's 
blood  in  any  living  creature  but  myself.  I  tried  all 
things  but  the  refuge  in  Christ,  and  to  that,  with 
scourging  stripes,  was  I  driven ;  and  I  came  with  the 
wretched  father's  cry  for  his  son,  often  repeating  it, 
Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief. ^^  "  And," 
he  adds,  "  the  Lord's  gracious  mercy  to  this  wavering 
faith,  staggering  under  the  force  of  the  hard  heart  of 
unbelief,  I  humbly  hoped,  would  be  extended  to  me 
also." 

2.  I  remark  again,  how  wonderful  the  touching  para- 
dox that  sin  itself  may  be  turned  into  the  soul's  aid 
and  argument  in  getting  delivered  from  the  hateful 
dominion  of  sin.  Most  encouraging  the  thought,  to 
such  as  we,  that  imperfection  does  not  bar  our  ap- 
proach to  the  infinitely  Perfect  One ;  that  the  clogging 
obstructions  of  our  souls  may  be  turned  into  lifting 
helps ;  that  the  unbeliefs,  often  so  embarrassing,  may 
be  framed  into  the  successive  rounds  of  the  ladder  by 
which  the  soul,  in  its  wrestling  prayer,  climbs  still 
nearer  to  the  gracious  throne.  We  are  only  to  view 
these  things  as  God  does,  as  wrong  and  base  and  vile, 
and  put  them  low  and  put  ourselves  low  on  account 
of  them.  Thus  will  they  aid  us  upward  ;  rather,  they 
bring  the  Deliverer  down  where  we  are ;  and,  as  sure 
as  he  comes,  and  finds  us  in  our  place,  he  will  take  us 
to  his  own,  and  make  us  his  own,  and  we  shall  see 
him  in  his  glory. 

3.  Another  remark  is,  that  not  only  do  these  words 
crowd  with  all  blessed  encouragements,  they  also 
strike  away  the  obstructing  excuses  ;  particularly,  this 


HELP   THOU  MINE   UNBELIEF.  281 

ever  present  one,  that  we  cannot  come  aright.  It 
takes  this  away,  by  telling  you  to  come  as  you  are.  If 
you  cannot  believe,  or  think  you  cannot,  come,  and 
ground  your  argument  before  God  on  that.  If  you 
cannot  confess  your  sin,  come  and  confess  to  God  tiiat 
you  cannot  confess.  Tell  him,  with  dry,  rigid  bitter- 
ness of  spirit,  that  you  cannot ;  that  the  rock  within 
you  will  not  relent ;  and  ask  him  to  smite  the  rock, 
that  some  penitential  drops  may  begin  to  ooze  from 
the  flinty  centre.  If  you  feel,  after  all,  in  your  earn- 
est but  impotent  strugglings  for  a  better  state,  that  it 
must  be  useless,  inasmuch  as  the  very  Prince  of  Evil 
is  in  full  possession,  and  high  enthroned  within  you, 
come  still,  for  the  Being  you  come  to  is  stronger  than 
he.  Ask  the  blessed  Lord  to  hurl  him  hence  and  en- 
ter and  reign  in  his  place. 

"  Drive  the  old  dragon  from  his  seat, 
With  all  his  hellish  crew." 

I  would  come,  and  end  my  sermon  with  this,  the 
central  and  blessed  idea  of  my  text ;  and.  Oh  that 
God's  Spirit  would  take  and  imbed  it  in  the  centre  of 
thy  soul.  It  tells  you  to  come  feeling  your  depravity, 
how  strong  it  is.  No  matter  how  strong,  if  you  but 
feel  it  and  confess  it,  and  beg  of  God  against  it,  plead- 
ing. Help  this  unbelief,  break  this  rock,  bend  this  iron 
will,  bring  low  this  cursed  pride :  I  have  been  else- 
where, I  have  been  all  about,  have  been  to  myself,  have 
been  to  thy  disciples,  they  cannot  do  it,  nor  can  I. 
Blessed  Master,  I  come,  at  last,  to  thee.  Save  thou, 
or  I  perish.    Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief. 


XXIV. 

THE  UNWRITTEN  OF  LIFE. 

And  there  are  also  many  other  things  which  Jesus  did,  the 
which,  if  they  should  he  written  every  one,  I  suppose  that 
even  the  world  itself  could  not  contain  the  books  that  shoidd 
he  written.     Amen.  —  John  xxi.  25 

''  I  ^HIS  is  the  closing  sentence  in  the  Gospel  by  John. 
-*-  Some  commentators  even  of  the  Evangelical  type, 
among  the  German  school,  take  ground  against  this 
unique  closing  sentence,  though  they  admit  all  the  rest. 
The  ground  of  the  objection  is,  not  that  it  is  wanting 
in  historic  authority,  — for  it  has  a  place  in  all,  even  the 
earliest,  manuscripts,  —  but  that  the  passage  is  wholly 
alien  from  the  spirit  of  John,  who  is  everywhere  char- 
acterized by  a  singular  moderation  of  expression ; 
whereas  we  have  here,  it  is  alleged,  the  most  extrav- 
agant hyperbole.  We  admit  that  it  is  hyperbole, — 
designed  so  to  be  taken  ;  and  if  John  was  ever  to  ven- 
ture upon  hyperbole,  we  should  suppose  it  would  be 
when  speaking  of  the  works  of  his  Lord,  they  so  tran- 
scended record  or  utterance.  And,  further,  if  this 
apostle  were  to  attempt  hyperbole,  we  judge  that  the 
one  in  the  text  is  very  much  what  he  would  be  likely 
to  produce ;  it  being  marked  with  his  peculiar,  child- 
like simplicity.    The  expression  in  the  text  is  intended 


THE   UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE.  283 

simply  to  convey  the  author's  conception  of  the  vast 
quantity,  the  inexpressible  quantity,  of  books  wliich 
must  be  made,  if  all  the  Lord  did,  when  on  earth,  were 
written,  in  all  the  detail  of  performance  and  in  all  the 
circumstances  of  interest. 

Taking,  now,  some  liberty  of  accommodation  with 
tlie  text,  and  some  range  into  the  context,  I  proceed  to 
make  some  remarks  suggested  by  the  Scripture  before 
us. 

1.  Perhaps  one  of  the  first  thoughts  or  emotions,  on 
reading  such  a  declaration  as  that  contained  in  the 
text,  is  of  the  nature  of  regret,  that  such  treasures  of 
truth  have  been  lost ;  for  every  act  of  the  Lord  was 
truth  embodied,  —  every  utterance  of  his  was  laden 
with  instruction  and  wisdom.  If  all  written,  it  would 
have  been  an  entire  life,  with  no  indiscretion,  no  im- 
purity, no  selfishness  or  sin  to  mar  or  taint  it.  It 
being  so,  that  every  act  was  right,  every  utterance 
truth,  had  it  only  been  all  written,  then  we  should 
have  had  more  truth  to  strengthen  and  to  guide  us. 
At  least,  the  truths  we  now  have  we  might  have  had  in 
more  convincing  forms,  with  varying  illustrations,  and 
more  impressive  enforcements.  There  certainly  seems 
to  be  ground  for  regret,  that  such  stores  of  instruction 
as  we  should  have  had,  if  that  prolific  and  perfect  life 
had  been  put  more  fully  on  record,  have  been  allowed 
to  perish.  But  the  regret  may  abate,  as  we  think  that 
we  have  enough  now,  to  form  in  our  minds  the  idea  of 
a  perfect  character,  and  to  convince  us  tliat  Christ  is 
that  character  ;  enough  to  waken  our  love,  reverence, 
adoration,  toward  him  ;  enough  for  all  the  purposes  of 
his  wonderful  mission.  The  decision  to  record  no 
more,  that  Divine  discretion  which  allowed  no  more  to 


284  THE    UNWEITTEN    OF   LIFE. 

be  recorded,  furnishes  in  this  very  fact  of  restriction  a 
proof  that  more  was  not  needed.  If  more  is  needed 
now,  more  was  needed  then.  If  more  was  needed 
then,  wonld  not  that  have  been  the  way  to  snpply  it, 
by  drawing  from  that  fountain,  by  calling  back  ntter- 
ances  which  now  have  been  lost,  and  placing  them 
where  they  would  teach  all  the  generations,  even  to  the 
end  of  time  ? 

2.  I  wish,  in  the  second  place,  to  remark  upon  the 
evidence  of  a  divine  hand  in  these  records,  furnished 
by  the  fact,  that  the  writers  so  wonderfully,  so  strange- 
ly, abstained  as  they  did  ;  that  they  kept  to  such  terms 
of  restriction.  This  is  not  human,  this  rigid  absti- 
nence when  set  to  record  a  life  of  One  called  Wonder- 
ful, and  who  was  wonderful  through  all  his  life. 
The  evidence  of  a  divine  control  appears  in  the  meagre 
quantity  or  amount  that  they  attempted,  —  that  they 
touched  so  few  of  his  works,  where  all  were  inviting 
record ;  that  there  should  be  a  world  of  matter  crowd- 
ing, in  which  the  world  would  be  interested,  and  yet 
the  most  of  it  left  out.  It  appears,  further,  in  the 
quality,  the  style  of  their  record,  that  the  statements 
made  were  so  moderate,  putting  forth  nothing  to  ex- 
cite, in  narrating  the  most  exciting  scenes,  using  no 
superlatives  in  the  language,  when  dealing  with  super- 
nal deeds,  —  concise,  calm,  reciting  marvels  whicli  al- 
tered the  course  of  nature,  in  the  fewest  and  simplest 
words.  This  severely  abstinent  manner,  when  ranging 
in  such  a  field,  is  not  that  which  belongs  to  man.  It 
is  proof  that  a  Divine  Power  directed  in  this  thing. 

In  the  many  lives  of  Christ,  written  at  that  early 
time,  under  the  human  impulse,  there  is  quantity,  — 
all  kinds  and  measures  are  put  forth  into  the  light. 


THE    UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE.  285 

These  apocryphal  doings  make  a  perfect  contrast  to 
these  books  we  receive  and  reverence,  as  brought  out 
by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  divine 
regimen  under  which  these  last  were  produced,  results 
in  such  brevity  and  paucity  of  detail,  such  purity, 
and  consequent  sublimity  often,  that  we  cannot  but  be 
impressed,  as  with  the  marks  of  the  unerring  hand. 
Tluis  the  very  manner  of  the  Gospels  becomes  one  of 
the  strong  proofs  of  their  divine  origin. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  we  might  gain  some 
alleviation  to  our  regret  —  if  we  ever  feel  any  —  that 
we  have  no  more  Scripture,  when  such  materials 
for  Scripture  have  perished,  from  this  fact  gain  the 
alleviation  ;  namely,  that  the  tendency  is  so  strong 
amongst  men  to  misunderstand,  misinterpret.  Scrip- 
ture. What  a  case  have  we  in  illustration  of  this  in  the 
context,  where  the  Saviour,  in  speaking  to  Peter  concern- 
ing John,  says.  If  I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come ^  ivhat 
is  that  to  thee?  This  was  the  exact  word  of  Christ. 
The  meaning,  which  was  received  and  went  abroad 
among  the  brethren  was,  that  that  disciple  should  not  die. 
A  false  meaning,  even  where  all  were  friends.  And 
this  meaning  was  got  by  departing  from  the  very  words 
the  Lord  used.  He  did  not  say  that,  but  something 
else ;  yet  they  took  that  he  did  not  say.  If  this  oc- 
curred among  friends,  how  much  more  might  we  look 
for  it  among  those  not  friendly.  And  how  much  do 
we  actually  find  of  this  perversion  in  those  quarters. 
Yery  likely,  now,  an  increase  of  tlie  record  would  have 
opened  the  door  far  wider  for  tliese  pernicious  miscon- 
structions. Instead  of  diminishing  them,  it  would 
have  proportionately  increased  the  opportunity,  and 
still  more  the  quantity,  of  these  perversions.     It  is 


286  THE   UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE. 

doubtless  true,  that  we  now  have  a  Bible  of  the  right 
quantity  and  quality  for  all  the  purposes  of  instruction 
and  redemption. 

3.  Another  remark  obviously  suggested  is  this  ; 
namely,  the  amount,  the  vast  quantity,  of  action, 
which  pertains  to  a  life,  even  when  that  life  has  not 
been  long.  The  life  of  Jesus  was  but  thirty-three 
years.  It  is  true,  doubtless,  that  his  life,  by  an  un- 
equalled activity  and  productiveness,  yielded  vastly 
more  to  record  than  the  ordinary  life ;  incalculably 
more  worthy  of  being  recorded.  Still,  we  say,  if  there 
was  such  a  quantity  of  action  in  his  life  as  to  justify 
the  strong  statement  of  the  Evangelist,  that  the  world 
itself  could  not  contain  the  books ;  then  how  much 
must  there  be  in  every  life  which  lasts  a  single  genera- 
tion ?  We  may  come  to  this  truth  of  an  incalculable 
quantity  of  action  and  life  in  another  way  than  by  in- 
ference. We  can  hardly  fail  to  be  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  measureless  quantity  if  we  but  look  within 
ourselves,  and  note  the  busy  and  prolific  working  of 
these  faculties  we  have,  ever  active  as  they  are, 
whether  the  life  be  one  of  industry  or  of  idleness.  Let 
any  one  trace  all  his  deeds,  the  important  and  the 
most  trivial ;  all  his  words,  the  useful  and  the  idle ; 
all  the  thoughts  of  his  mind,  in  its  intent  thinking, 
and  in  its  spontaneous,  its  almost  unconscious,  rev- 
erie ;  all  the  desires,  emotions,  passions  of  his  heart, 
—  a  sea  ever  showing  its  slight  or  its  tumultuous 
swell ;  and  then  annex  to  all  this  the  quantity  of 
mental  action  which  God  sees  and  marks  as  voluntary 
and  responsible,  but  of  which  tiie  person  himself,  at 
the  time,  took  no  cognizance  ;  let  any  one  trace  all  the 
possible  detail  of  his  action  and  history  for  a  day,  and 


THE    UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE.  287 

continue  the  minute  and  accumulative  noting,  till  it 
swells  to  the  totality  of  a  year,  and,  at  length,  to  that 
of  an  ordinary  life,  and  he  will  be  convinced,  I  think, 
of  a  quantity,  an  amount,  past  the  mind's  utmost  com- 
putation or  conception.  It  is,  indeed,  a  serious,  not  to 
say  most  startling,  thought,  that  there  is  so  much  pro- 
ceeding even  from  the  idlest  and  the  most  trivial  life, 
—  especially  startling  when  we  add  this  thought  or 
truth,  that  none  of  this  measureless  quantity  of  mental 
or  moral  action  will  ever  perish, —  not  a  deed  or 
word  or  thought,  not  the  slightest  aifection  or  evan- 
escent desire  or  emotion,  will  be  lost,  —  not  one  will 
fail  to  come  up  again,  and  live  in  our  endless  experi- 
ence of  joy  or  of  woe. 

4.  Let  us  pass,  in  our  next  step,  to  contemplate  that 
portion  of  life  which  the  divine  appointment  affects, 
and  even  controls  ;  in  other  words,  let  us  for  a  moment 
consider  life,  as  directed  or  modified  by  God's  provi- 
dence. Here  is  something  outside  of  our  will  or  re- 
sponsibility, making  the  life  of  one  very  different  from 
that  of  another.  We  have  an  instance  in  the  cases  of 
Peter  and  John,  —  both  faithful  disciples,  leading  apos- 
tles, both  alike  in  this  respect,  but  how  diverse  their 
lot  in  the  future,  as  that  wisdom  which  ordains  wise- 
ly, even  when  it  ordains  mysteriously,  marked  out  tlie 
course  of  each  ;  assigning  to  Peter  troublous  scenes 
and  a  violent  death  ;  to  John  a  long  life,  a  serene  and 
beautiful  old  age,  and  a  peaceful  death  amid  minister- 
ing friends.  It  is  difficult,  after  all,  to  say  which  of 
these  is  the  most  favored,  —  the  one  sooner  cut  off,  and 
honored,  when  he  fell,  with  the  martyr's  crown ;  or 
the  one  whose  sun  remained  so  long  ascendant,  and  at 
length  went  so  radiantly  and  tranquilly  down.     Tiiere 


288  THE   UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE. 

is  another  fact  which  presents  itself,  quite  probably,  to 
be  a  fact  in  our  own  case ;  it  is  this,  that  the  part  of 
the  personal  history  to  transpire  may  be  very  different, 
yea,  may  mark  a  sharp  contrast,  to  the  part  which  has 
transpired.  Not  only  did  Peter  and  John  greatly  differ 
in  the  particular  just  noted  ;  still  further,  Peter  that 
had  been,  and  Peter  that  was  to  be,  shows,  in  respect 
to  the  outward  arrangement  and  conditions  of  his  life, 
an  equally  marked  difference.  Wlien  tliou  wast  young, 
thou  girdedst  thyself,  and  walkedst  ivhither  thou  loouldest ; 
hut  u'hen  thou  shalt  he  old,  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thy 
hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and  carry  thee  whither 
thou  loouldest  7iot.  The  first  part,  in  a  temporal  re- 
spect, prosperous :  the  hand  of  adversity  nor  of  perse- 
cution was  upon  him ;  young,  buoyant,  free  to  range 
as  he  pleased,  in  the  service  of  his  Master.  In  the 
part  that  remained,  these  noble  impulses  of  his  soul 
were  to  be  put,  now  and  then,  under  a  painful  restric- 
tion ;  himself  to  follow  the  Master  literally,  and  finally 
to  the  cross.  So  is  it,  very  commonly,  with  life.  Chris- 
tian and  not  Christian ;  the  part  that  has  been,  and  the 
part  that  is  to  be,  very  different :  as  we  would  have  it, 
for  a  while,  and  .then  the  rest  as  we  would  not  have  it. 
In  one  case,  the  satisfactory  portion  first,  and  the  re- 
verse to  follow  ;  again  in  directly  the  other  order.  It 
is  folly  to  expect  the  free  and  the  prosperous,  the  satis- 
factory portion,  to  continue  throughout  life.  If  we 
have  commenced  our  course  with  that,  as  Peter  did,  it 
is  wise  to  be  looking  and  preparing  for  another  sort. 
If,  in  the  part  that  has  transpired,  prosperity  has  pre- 
vailed, that  fact  constitutes  ground  for  concluding  that 
something  is  back  and  to  come  of  altogether  another 
kind.     As  we  are  ever  arguing  contrasts  from  God's 


THE   UNWRITTEN   OP   LIFE.  289 

physical  arrangements,  warmth  soon  from  the  present 
prevalence  of  cold,  moisture  from  drought,  it  might  be 
well  and  safe  to  expect  the  same  as  resulting  in  his 
moral  arrangements.  If  our  history  has  been,  in  the 
main,  as  we  would  have  it,  prosperous,  satisfactory,  our 
own  will  and  desire  gratified,  then  we  may  wisely  look, 
in  what  is  to  come,  for  a  larger  mixture  of  the  opposite 
sort,  such  as  we  would  not,  something  of  the  Lord's 
assignment,  and  right  against  this  will,  passion,  pride, 
desire ;  to  all  this  perverse  and  refractory  element  of 
the  soul,  the  Lord  saying,  as  he  did  to  Peter,  Follow 
thou  me  to  the  cross.  And  at  length,  upon  the  cross, 
he  nails,  by  his  providence,  these  refractory  qualities, 
and  if  thou  art  not  crucified,  they  are.  To  most  of  us, 
who  may  have  got  along  rather  smoothly  up  to  this 
point,  what  remains,  very  likely,  quite  certainly,  if  we 
are  Christians,  will  partake  somewhat  largely  of  the 
painful,  and  almost  bloody,  crucifying  work.  Thou 
liver  heretofore  according  to  thy  mind,  thou  walker 
when  and  where  thou  wouldest,  hear  the  Master  speak 
to  thee  ;  for  thus,  very  likely,  he  will  speak  :  Follow  me. 
And  it  will  be  good  to  do  so ;  though  bitter  at  the  time, 
in  the  end  most  blessed  to  do  so.  The  self-willed  Peter, 
the  Peter  at  large,  was  the  denying  Peter.  And  how 
his  heart  bled  for  it  immediately  after.  The  girded  and 
bound  and  imprisoned  Peter  was  the  tested,  the  loyal 
Peter,  his  heart  the  seat  of  an  imperial  joy,  such  as 
never  filled  it  before.  Thus  God  can  make  the  later 
and  the  shadier  half  far  the  brighter  and  the  better 
half.  And  he  will,  in  case  of  all  who  follow  him.  It 
is  good,  then,  to  be  in  his  hands,  to  have  him  apportion 
our  lot,  so  wonderfully  skilled  is  he  in  this ;  namely,  in 
bringing  the  most  unlikely  beginning  and  untoward 

19 


290  THE    UNWRITTEN    OF   LIFE. 

progress  to  the  most  serene  and  prosperous  conclusion. 
Will  we  not  trust  him,  and,  when  it  is  dark,  perplexing, 
crossing,  still  trust  him,  and  make  it  our  joy  that  he 


reigns 


And  what  shall  this  man  do  f  This  was  Peter's  ques- 
tion to  Christ,  prying  into  the  prospective  of  John. 
How  shall  it  go  with  him  ?  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
this  inquisition  forward,  to  know,  if  we  can,  what  is  to 
be  in  our  own  case  and  that  of  others ;  to  read  the  his- 
tory, before  the  material  that  is  to  make  it  has  been 
lived.  How  shall  it  go  with  us  in  the  year  we  have 
just  entered  ?  It  is  easy  to  make  statements  on  this 
point  which  will  turn  out  true,  having  their  verifica- 
tions somewhere  in  this  gathered  assembly.  But 
God  only  can  make  the  personal  application.  Still 
it  is  true,  that  prophetic  declarings  like  these  will 
find  their  fulfilment  among  you.  This  year  now 
entered,  sudden  prosperity  shall  gild  thy  prospect. 
Thou  shalt  retrieve  who  hast  been  helplessly  sinking. 
Thou  shalt  sink  deeper  in  the  waves  that  are  now  per- 
plexing thee.  Mature  disciple,  thou  shalt  lay  down 
thy  burdens.  Thoughtless  one,  this  year  thou  shalt 
die.  There  are  details  in  the  plan  of  God  concerning 
some  of  us,  this  year,  that  would  blanch  our  cheeks 
were  we  made  now  to  know  them.  They  will  come  in 
their  time  and  order.  Our  wisdom  is  to  be  ready  to 
meet  them,  to  meet  whatever  shall  come. 

The  year  that  is  gone,  its  history,  the  individual, 
personal  history,  the  acts,  thoughts,  afiections  of  thy 
single  isolated  soul,  go  by  tliyself  apart,  and  call  it 
up ;  the  quantity  you  cannot,  the  quality  you  can :  in 
some  of  the  more  pregnant  and  decisive  parts  you  can. 
And  what  are  they  ?  their  moral  hue,  what  ?    The  lines 


THE    UNWRITTEN    OF    LIFE.  291 

they  stamped  into  your  soul,  what  ?  And  as  you  meet 
them  in  that  coming  scene,  your  emotions  then,  think 
you,  what  ? 

No  other  year,  probably,  should  you  enact  the  his- 
tory of  a  score  more,  not  one  to  come  so  important,  so 
influential  upon  your  final  state,  as  the  one  just  ended. 
In  potency  of  influence,  the  years  grow  less  as  we 
grow  old,  except  as  we  do  that  one  work  which 
changes  all  the  rest,  reverses  all  the  wrong  in  the  past, 
and  brightens  all  that  is  to  come  ;  namely,  the  work  of 
believing  on  the  crucified  Son  of  God.  I  lift  this  up, 
on  this  new  year,  as  the  great  work  and  aim  of  life. 
If  you  have  not  done  it,  may  God  help  you  to  do  it. 
May  you  summon  all  within,  and  lift  yourself  up  with 
an  unalterable  purpose ;  ask  help  of  God  to  do  it,  to 
believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  make  him  your  friend ; 
to  make  yoiirself  over  to  be  wholly  his ;  and  the  blessed- 
ness to  your  soul,  as  it  shall  begin  here,  and  swell 
there,  and  flow  on  for  ever,  no  tongue  can  tell.  And 
it  will,  doubtless,  seem  to  you,  in  some  remote  period, 
if  the  whole  volume  and  compass  of  it  should  be  put 
into  expression,  that  the  world  itself  would  not  contain 
the  books  it  will  require  to  express  your  joy. 


XXV. 

THE  END   AT   HAND. 

But  the  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand :  be  ye  therefore  sober,  and 
ivatch  unto  prayer.  —  1  Pet.  iv.  7. 

"  I  ^HE  same  apostle  says,  in  another  connection,  But 
-*-  the  day  of  the  Lord  will  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night. 
There  are  announcements  very  similar  to  the  above 
scattered  throughout  the  New  Testament.  Paul,  writ- 
ing to  the  Philippians,  exhorts,  Let  your  moderation  he 
known  unto  all  men.  The  Lord  is  at  hand.  Writing  to 
Christians  at  Rome,  he  says,  The  night  is  far  spent, 
the  day  is  at  hand.  James,  in  his  Epistle,  says.  Be  ye 
also  patient ;  stablish  your  hearts :  for  the  coming  of  the 
Lord  draweth  nigh.  In  the  next  verse,  he  says.  Behold 
the  Judge  standeth  before  the  door.  In  the  Revelation  it 
is  written.  He  which  testifieth  these  things  saith,  Surely 
I  come  quickly :  Amen.     Liven  so,  come.  Lord  Jesus. 

The  question  here  arises,  Are  these  declarations  true 
in  the  sense  which  the  writers  entertained  when  they 
penned  them  ?  Or  are  we  to  suppose  that  they  were 
permitted  to  cherish  the  error  —  an  innocent  one,  some 
may  think  —  that  the  coming  of  Christ  to  judgment  was 
literally  at  hand  ?  Let  it  be  observed,  that  Paul  occa- 
sionally uses  language  of  the  above  import.  The  Lord  is 
at  hand.     These  things  are  written  for  our  admonition. 


THE   END   AT   HAND.  293 

upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  are  come.  He  seems  to 
speak  of  the  resurrection  as  an  event  to  occur  in  his 
own  time.  For  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
heaven  with  a  shout,  ivith  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and 
ivith  the  trump  of  God :  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise 
first ;  then  we  which  are  alive  and  remain  shall  he  caught 
up  together  ivith  them  in  the  clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord  in 
the  air.  Tliis,  and  other  language  of  the  apostle, 
appears  to  have  been  interpreted  and  understood  by 
many  to  declare  the  speedy  coming  of  the  Lord ;  so 
that,  in  another  epistle,  the  apostle  charges  them,  that 
they  he  not  soon  shaken  in  mind,  or  he  troubled,  neither  hy 
spirit,  nor  hy  iwrd,  nor  hy  letter  as  from  us,  as  that  the  day 
of  Christ  (meaning  the  great  final  day)  is  at  hand.  Then 
he  goes  onr  to  say  that  it  is  not  immediately  to  occur, 
there  being  some  great  events  to  precede  it.  From  this 
it  appears,  that  Paul  certainly,  and  probably  the  other 
apostles,  were  not  cherishing  the  belief  that  the  day  of 
judgment  was  literally  near.  These  declarations,  — 
The  coming  of  the  Lord  draiveth  nigh,  The  Judge 
standeth  before  the  door,  Surely,  L  come  quickly.  The 
end  of  all  things  is  at  hand,  —  these  and  similar  declara- 
tions were  made  nearly  two  thousand  years  ago,  and 
things  have  remained  as  they  were ;  there  has  been  no 
resurrection,  no  day  of  judgment.  At  the  same  time, 
those  declarations  were  intelligently  made:  they  were 
and  are  true. 

In  what  sense,  then,  were  they  and  are  they  true  ? 
It  is  manifest  they  had  a  meaning ;  and,  if  they  had, 
they  still  have  a  meaning,  which  is  consistent  with 
what,  two  thousand  years  ago,  was  the  fact,  and  is  still 
the  common  doctrine,  that  the  great  day  of  judgment 
is  not  absolutely  and  literally  near  at  hand. 


294  THE   END   AT   HAND. 

The  language,  obviously,  has  a  reference  to,  and  an 
accomplishment  in,  successive  and  somewhat  differing 
events.  The  Lord  is  represented  as  coming  in  the  over- 
throw of  the  Jewish  state  and  polity.  This  was  the 
winding  up  of  the  first  great  dispensation  ;  the  first 
grand  period  of  the  Church  ;  indeed,  the  first  grand 
period  of  time.  This  came  to  its  end  by  one  of  the 
most  awful  judgments  God  ever  visited  on  any  people. 
By  some  it  is  supposed,  that  Peter,  in  his  remarkable 
declaration.  The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand,  had  ref- 
erence, primarily,  to  that  appalling  catastrophe  and 
consummation.  It  is  certain  that  Christ  warned  his 
disciples  of  this,  his  first  coming,  for  purposes  of  retri- 
bution. He  gave  them  definite  signs  of  his  coming, 
and  described  that  coming  in  language  similar  to  that 
which  is  used  to  invest  with  majesty  and  terror  his 
final  advent.  This  consummation  and  overthrow  was, 
then,  literally  at  hand.  It  was  an  event  of  absorbing, 
yea,  agonizing,  interest  to  every  Jewish  heart ;  and  one 
which  called  for  the  utmost  vigilance  and  prayer. 
Admitting  this  interpretation,  the  passage  is  not  lost 
in  its  palpable  bearing  upon  us.  The  winding  up  of 
the  first  grand  period  of  the  world  was  manifestly  and 
strongly  typical  of  the  far  more  sublime  and  awful 
winding  up  of  the  second.  The  first  has  passed  :  the 
end  of  the  second  is  to  come.  It  is  coming :  it  is  near- 
ing.  This  is  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word  translated 
at  hand.  The  end  of  all  things  is  nearing.  The  com- 
pletion of  the  first  is  proof  of  the  coming  and  cer- 
tainty of  the  second.  The  first  coming  of  Christ,  for 
retribution,  in  the  manner  he  did,  in  exact  accordance 
with  his  own  uttered  and  recorded  prediction,  is  proof 
that  he  will  come  a  second  time,  at  the  end  of  the 


THE   END   AT   HAND.  295 

world,  ill  the  sublime  and  glorious  manner  described 
ill  the  sacred  record.  Let  any  person  of  seriousness 
and  candor  read  the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Matthew, 
and  compare  it  with  the  chapter  in  Joseplius  in  which 
that  historian,  an  enemy  to  the  Christian  faith,  de- 
scribes the  exact  and  literal  accomplishment  of  our 
Saviour's  words,  in  which  he  foretold  the  events  of  his 
first  coming ;  then  let  him  read  the  twenty-fifth  chap- 
ter, in  which  the  same  Lord  Jesus  foretells  and 
describes  his  second  coming  for  the  purpose  of  final 
retribution  of  quick  and  dead,  —  and  he  cannot,  it  would 
seem,  resist  the  conviction,  that  his  second  and  final 
coming  will  take  place  just  as  it  is  predicted  ;  and  the 
history  and  results  of  it  will  be  written  in  the  perfected 
redemption  of  the  saved,  and  uttered  and  echoed  in 
the  deeper  wailings  of  the  lost. 

The  language,  then,  has  an  important  meaning,  a 
stirring  significancy,  as  referring  to  the  Lord's  coming 
to  judgment.  As  a  great  event,  transcending  and 
overshadowing  all  others,  ever  coming,  rapidly  Hear- 
ing, striding,  ever  rushing  on,  it  may  be  said  to  be  at 
hand.  Certainly,  it  appears  so  to  the  mind  so  absorbed 
in  the  amazing  contemplation  as  to  forget,  at  the  time, 
all  other  things.  It  is  really  so,  in  strict  truth,  when 
the  line  between  this  and  the  judgment-day  is  set  off 
against  the  line  which  measures  the  eternity  beyond. 
It  is  but  a  step,  a  point  even,  to  the  time  when  the 
trump  shall  sound,  the  Judge  appear,  the  tenants  of  the 
grave  come  forth  and  pass  the  dread  ordeal. 

But  to  this  great,  this  final  ending,  there  are  other 
subordinate  endings.  Death  is  the  end  of  the  world 
to  him  who  dies ;  the  same  to  him  as  if  all  sublunary 
things  were  literally  abolished.     The  glorious  sun,  the 


296  THE  END   AT   HAND. 

broad,  blue  sky,  the  green  earth,  and  the  flowing 
streams,  henceforth  are  naught  to  him :  he  will  know 
them  no  more  for  ever.  With  him,  it, is  all  ended  ;  the 
most  pregnant  and  momentous  stage  of  his  existence, 
that  on  which  the  whole  subsequent  eternity  depends, 
is  ended.  He  has  gone  to  his  final  account,  gone  to 
his  eternal  home.  Amazing  consummation  to  the 
spirit  that  departs.  And  how  fast  are  spirits  depart- 
ing. Nearly  thirty  millions  of  these  consummations 
occur  every  year ;  about  eighty  thousand  occur  every 
day ;  more  than  three  thousand  every  hour.  Almost 
every  swing  of  the  pendulum  crowds  a  soul  into  eter- 
nity. In  this  way  a  whole  race  is  soon  gone.  The 
world  may  remain  as  it  is,  a  hundred  years  from  this. 
The  sun,  moon,  and  stars  will  shine  with  unabated 
brightness  and  beauty ;  but  other  eyes  will  see  them. 
The  eyes  they  now  enlighten,  the  bodies  they  now  warm 
and  cheer,  will  abide  in  the  darkness  and  corruption  of 
the  grave.  To  all  now  on  the  stage  it  will  be  ended ; 
a  whole  race  ended  ;  we,  as  a  part  of  it,  ended.  May 
we  not  say  then,  and  feel  it  as  we  say.  The  end  is  at 
hand  ?  How  quickly  will  it  be  upon  you,  and  upon  me, 
as  an  individual.  This  rushing  flight  of  time,  these 
thronging  diseases  ready  to  prey  upon  us,  these  shafts 
of  the  destroyer  flying  all  about  us,  this  wasting 
strength,  this  ebbing  pulse,  this  tottering  frailty,  all 
say,  in  the  reflecting  ear.  Mortal,  to  you  the  end  of  all 
things  is  near ;  the  termination  of  all  earthly  hopes 
and  schemes  and  pleasures  is  near ;  the  closing  of  all 
these  changes,  and  the  entering  upon  the  stabilities  of  an 
eternal  condition,  is  near,  and  not  only  near,  but  every 
day  it  is  coming  nearer  ;  death  is  nearing ;  judgment 
nearing  ;  eternity  nearing ;  every  step  in  life  is  a  step 


THE   END   AT   HAND.  297 

towards  the  sepulchre ;  the  next  may  be  a  step  into  it. 
This  inflexible  uncertainty  adhering  to  our  condition, 
gives,  if  possible,  still  greater  force  to  the  announce- 
ment of  the  text,  near,  nearing,  but  how  near  none 
can  tell.  To-day  you  may  be  well ;  to-night  you  may 
be  contending  with  nature's  great  agony  ;  to-morrow 
you  may  be  laid  away  in  your  coffin.  When  I  look  at 
these  facts,  when  I  consider  this  life,  how  sure  and 
momentous  its  end  ;  all  worldly  things,  to  the  depart- 
ing, ending  with  it ;  when  I  see  how  quickly  a  genera- 
tion passes,  as  it  were,  crowded  off  by  a  new  one 
rising  up  to  take  its  place,  this  again  to  be  crowded  off 
and  disappear  as  soon  ;  one  going,  another  coming,  and 
all  bringing  on  the  great  consummation  ;  this  final  end, 
nearing,  ever  nearing,  with  the  lightning-like  speed  of 
time,  —  I  do  feel  that  there  is  a  meaning  and  a  truth 
and  an  amazing  solemnity  in  the  inspired  declaration. 
The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand. 

My  next  remark  upon  this  passage  is,  there  being  a 
meaning  in  it  to  us,  it  presents  a  motive  for  us  :  it  is 
a  great  and  permanent  motive.  This  consideration  of 
the  end  at  hand  has  moved  myriads  who  were  on  the 
stage  many  centuries  ago.  Emphatically  was  it  one  of 
the  great  moving  considerations  of  the  early  Christians. 
These  two :  first  the  cross,  then  the  coming.  They 
thought  a  great  deal  of  Christ's  coming,  and  the  end. 
Their  sustained  fervor  and  engagedness  were  owing,  in 
part,  to  their  vivid  apprehensions  of  the  great  winding- 
up  scene.  Their  spirits  were  kindled  and  exalted  by 
their  visions  of  that  coming  glory  and  majesty.  Could 
we  look  into  the  experience  of  those  of  every  period, 
who  have  been  eminently  active  and  holy,  and  see  the 
hidden  springs  of  their  piety,  we  should  find,  that,  like 


298  THE   END    AT    HAND. 

Baxter,  they  had  been  persons  greatly  affected  by  an 
approaching  death  and  judgment. 

The  next  point  is,  how  is  this  motive  to  become  influ- 
ential, efiective,  in  any  measure  proportioned  to  its 
greatness  and  solemnity  ?  How  has  it  been  in  the  case 
of  others  ?  How  is  it  to  be  in  our  case  ?  Not,  let  me 
say  distinctly,  by  believing  in  actual,  literal  nearness, 
or  vicinage.  There  are  some  who  seem  to  think,  that 
the  great  event  is  nothing,  comparatively,  as  motive,  if 
at  a  distance.  If  the  judgment  be  a  century  ahead,  it 
is  of  little  consequence  how  we  demean  ourselves. 
"We  are  to  wake  up  and  bestir  ourselves,  because,  and 
only  because,  the  scene  is  actually  right  upon  us.  I 
admit  we  should  bestir  ourselves,  did  we  know  death 
or  judgment  to  be  literally  at  our  door ;  but  not  only 
for  this  supposed  nearness.  It  is  the  very  spirit  and 
essence  of  brutish  unbelief,  to  be  affected  only  by  a 
present,  palpable  event  of  this  sort.  There  is  no  faith 
about  it :  we  know  there  is  a  great  deal  of  praying 
when  death  has  come  to  summon  the  spirit  away ;  but 
what  is  praying  in  sickness  and  death  good  for,  if 
there  were  none  in  life  and  health  ?  What  is  praying 
in  a  storm  good  for ;  what  avails  it,  if  there  were  none 
in  fair  weather  ?  So,  in  tlie  final  day,  there  will  un- 
questionably be  a  great  deal  of  praying  when  the 
graves  are  opening  and  the  dead  are  rising  and  the 
world  is  burning ;  but  what  will  it  avail  ?  An  event 
or  motive  of  this  sort  made  palpable,  and  brought  right 
upon  one  with  infinite  and  visible  pressure,  is  enough 
to  make  a  demon  pray  ;  and  he  would  be  a  demon 
when  he  had  done.  But  all  the  power  of  an  event  or 
scene  which  is  to  affect  him,  in  the  case  of  the  consider- 
ate man,  does  not  lie  in  the  contact  of  that  scene.     It 


THE  END   AT   HAND.  299 

is,  indeed,  a  solemn  thing  to  die :  it  is  also  a  solemn 
thing  to  live,  and  look  forward  to  the  hour.  It  is  a 
solemn  thing  to  be  laying  by  material  for  the  judgment, 
as  well  as  to  be  actually  judged  ;  to  be  treasuring  up 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  as  well  as  to  encounter 
its  actual  and  dreadful  infliction.  On  many  accounts, 
it  would  be  better  for  me  that  death  strike  me  to-day 
than  that  he  delay  the  stroke  a  quarter  of  a  century, 
and  I  pass  and  close  that  period  in  unrepented  sin  ; 
better  for  me  that  the  archangel's  trump  summon  me 
this  hour  before  the  great  white  throne  than  that  the 
time  be  delayed  for  me  to  make  longer  my  line  and 
blacker  my  account  of  guilt.  Oh  that  men  felt  more 
the  solemnity  of  living:  there  is  motive  in  living  as 
well  as  in  dying. 

But  to  recur  to  that  great  event,  —  the  end  ;  if  not  by 
believing  in  literal  nearness,  how  is  it  to  be  made  effec- 
tual as  motive  ?  I  answer,  as  has  already  been  inti- 
mated, By  the  eye  of  faith  looking  directly  upon  it. 
In  this  way,  it  is  brought  near :  it  seems  near,  but  a  step 
indeed,  to  death  and  the  judgment.  Faith  fixes  upon  the 
certainty  of  the  event :  whatever  else  may  fail,  this  will 
come.  Death,  judgment,  eternity,  are  assuredly  before 
me.  Faith  considers  the  uncertainty  of  the  time.  None 
can  divine  the  time.  Men  have  tried  to  pry  it  up  from 
the  depths  of  an  unrevealed  secrecy ;  have  made  their 
confident  calculations,  some  in  this  way,  others  in  that ; 
evolving,  as  they  have  thought,  the  hitherto  baffling  in- 
tricacies of  prophecy.  And  so  the  world  has  been 
told  again  and  again  and  again  when  the  trump  shall 
sound,  and  the  judgment  be  set ;  but  the  event  has 
always  proved,  and  doubtless  always  will,  that  of  that 
day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man.     Faith  looks  upon  it  as 


300  THE  END   AT   HAND. 

a  sudden,  surprising  event;  which,  when  it  does  come, 
will  come  not  by  arithmetical  computation,  but  as  a 
thief  in  the  night. 

Faith  fixes  upon  the  grandeur  and  solemnity  of  the 
event,  and  its  accompaniments.  They  will  soon  be  here ; 
and  they  will  indeed  be  amazing.  An  amazing  scene 
when  the  Son  of  man  shall  appear  in  his  glory,  and 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  angels  shall  be  round 
about  him ;  and  the  damned  coming  up  in  chains  from 
the  pit ;  and  all  the  dead  coming  forth  from  the  open- 
ing graves ;  and  all  the  living  in  a  moment  changed  ; 
the  heavens  rolling  together  like  a  scroll ;  earth  and  sea 
and  the  elements  melting  and  burning  ;  all  nations 
together  ascending  to  stand  before  the  Son  of  man ;  a 
part  on  the  right  hand,  the  remainder  on  the  left ;  the 
former  to  hear,  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the 
kingdom  ;  the  latter  to  hear,  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed, 
into  everlasting  fire ;  and  the  blessed  go  through  the 
gates  into  the  golden  city ;  and  the  doomed  go  down 
into  the  devouring  flame,  to  be  for  ever  with  the  devil 
and  his  angels.  Truly,  it  will  be  a  day  of  greatness 
and  wonders,  equal  to  all  other  days  gathered  into  one. 
As  faith  fastens  upon  it,  meditates,  dwells,  gazes 
thereon,  the  scene  keeps  nearing,  and  swelling  out  into 
greater  magnitude ;  and,  while  thus  absorbed  and  ad- 
miring, the  believing  soul  greatly  longs  for  that  advent, 
and  that  glory,  and  so  hastens  unto  the  coming  of  the 
day  of  God ;  by  the  strength  of  hope  and  desire,  as  it 
were,  leaping  forth  to  meet  it.  All  these,  the  faitli,  the 
fixedness,  the  desire,  the  grandeur  of  the  scene,  its 
rapid  nearing,  its  certainty  as  to  fact,  its  uncertainty 
as  to  time,  destined  to  burst  forth  upon  an  astonished 
world,  —  these  things,   when   realized,  make  out,  we 


THE   END    AT   HAND.  301 

think,  a  strong  case,  an  unequalled  pressure  of  mo- 
tive. 

And  here,  let  me  say,  is  where  every  man  ought  to 
live,  with  the  end  before  him ;  death,  judgment,  eter- 
nity, the  impending  realities  of  his  vision,  often  painting 
their  mighty  image  upon  the  very  retina  of  his  soul. 
So  living,  how  will  he  live  ?     How  will  he  be  affected  ? 

One  thing  is,  his  estimate  of  the  present  world  will 
be  exceedingly  reduced  and  sobered.  This  estimate, 
as  a  general  thing,  is  exorbitant,  overgrown.  Most 
think  far  too  highly  of  the  world.  It  glares  upon  men, 
bewilders  them,  and  bewitches  them.  The  difficulty  is, 
it  is  not  viewed  enough  as  Paul  viewed  it,  when  he  said, 
The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away.  Let  but  this 
simple  fact  —  it  passes,  the  end  at  hand  —  be  incor- 
porated among  the  living,  productive  sentiments  of  the 
heart,  and  every  thing  about  it,  every  feeling  toward  it, 
and  every  action  for  it,  will  be  changed.  There  will 
be  a  wonderful  coming  down  and  sobering  of  the  whole 
view  and  feeling  and  pursuit.  The  man  has  simply 
come  to  understand  the  tenure.  This  is  not  my  home : 
nothing  here  can  be  long  retained.  I  am  not  to  place 
my  supreme  regard  upon  this  sin-deformed,  this  death- 
struck  scene.  I  am  not  going  to  act  the  fool  before 
the  universe,  in  scrambling  for  the  baubles  of  a  mo- 
ment, to  the  neglect  and  perdition  of  my  undying  spirit. 
I  am  not  going  to  barter  away  the  wealth  of  my  immor- 
tality for  the  poor  indulgence,  the  sorry  debasement  of 
an  hour.  Thus  he  loosens  his  selfish,  his  maddened 
grasp  upon  the  world.  The  view  we  have  taken  goes 
to  moderate  all  our  earthly  passions  and  griefs.  Breth- 
ren^ The  time  is  short.  It  remaineth,  that  both  they  that 
have  wives,  be  as  though  they  had  none;  and  they  that 


302  THE   END   AT   HAND. 

weep,  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as 
though  they  rejoiced  not;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though 
they  possessed  not ;  and  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not 
abusing  it.  Every  earthly  good  will  have  receded, 
every  earthly  convenience  have  been  abandoned,  and 
every  affliction  forgotten,  in  the  oblivion  of  the  grave. 

The  habit  of  dwelling  beneath  these  impending 
scenes  cannot  fail  to  quicken  the  spiritual  affections, 
and  give  new  strength  and  intensity  to  the  Christian's 
zeal.  What  a  prize  there  is  for  him  to  win  ;  what  an 
inheritance  ;  what  a  glory.  In  his  near,  full  view  of 
it,  it  seems  wonderful ;  it  staggers,  it  all  but  over- 
powers, him.  And  yet  he  pants  unutterably  for  that 
purity  and  glory.  The  soul,  too,  with  its  vast  capaci- 
ties, redemption,  with  its  interminable  results,  appear 
to  him  in  a  new  light,  and  call  upon  him  with  a  new 
urgency.  How  many  are  the  exposed  ;  they  are  all 
about  us  ;  they  are  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice  ;  they 
are  pouring  into  the  dark  abyss ;  thousands  and  mil- 
lions, to  be  saved  soon,  if  saved  ever.  Christ,  who 
died  for  them,  and  whose  love  you  have  felt,  appeals 
to  you,  appeals  to  me.  Go,  carry  my  gospel ;  tell 
them  of,  and  urge  them  to,  the  place  of  refuge,  — 
the  covert  from  the  gathering  tempest.  The  Chris- 
tian, whose  eyes  are  open  to  these  things,  —  to  that 
heaven,  that  hell,  that  Saviour,  that  Judge,  that  judg- 
ment, —  all  near,  fast  hastening  on,  if  there  be  any 
life  in  him,  will  be  moved  to  do  sometliing  for  his 
Lord.  He  will  not,  he  cannot  sleep,  any  more  than  he 
will  be  able  literally  to  sleep  when  all  the  dead  are 
stirring  in  their  graves.  He  will  wake  and  work  ;  and 
he  will  pray  God  to  bless  his  labor  in  the  Lord. 

Christian  hearer,  try  to  bring  these  matters  home  to 


THE    END    AT    HAND.  303 

your  own  heart,  your  own  case.  In  a  little,  you  pass 
away,  and  are  here  no  more.  Are  you  ready  ?  Is 
your  work  done,  —  done  in  your  own  soul ;  done  in  the 
field  around  you,  —  so  that  the  Lord  will  say  to  you, 
Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant?  Most  blessed 
approval  at  such  an  hour,  before  such  a  presence. 
Most  dreadful  and  crushing  will  be  the  reverse  :  some 
will  hear,  Thou  wicked  and  slothful  servant.  So  live 
and  labor,  watch  and  pray,  in  the  season  of  effort  and 
prayer,  that  the  welcome,  and  not  the  woe,  shall  be 
yours ;  then  shall  you  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 

Unconverted  hearer,  you  are  not  prepared  ;  and  yet 
you  may  be  on  the  brink  of  ruin.  Have  you  thought 
of  your  situation  and  of  the  scene  you  are  to  meet  ? 
Consider  them  now :  wait  not  for  a  literal  contact ; 
wait  not  for  the  agitation  and  decay  of  a  death-bed  ; 
wait  not  for  the  trump  of  judgment  to  stir  your  con- 
science and  move  your  sensibilities.  Ponder,  till  you 
feel  the  truth  of  that  declaration.  The  end  of  all  things 
is  at  hand.  Though  an  old  declaration,  though  it  has 
been  reiterated  for  centuries,  uttered  in  ears  that  have 
long  since  mouldered,  still  it  comes  fresh  and  startling 
to  you  this  day.  It  will  come  again.  The  end  will  be 
upon  you  sooner  than  you  think.  You  may  see  it 
even  now,  speeding  on  like  the  heated  courser.  Weeks, 
months,  years,  come  and  go  ;  deaths,  coffins,  graves, 
crowd  on  the  vision  ;  the  inexorable  scythe  swinging 
darkly  across  your  path,  —  how  can  you  be  so  uncon- 
cerned ?  How  can  you  sleep  on,  in  such  circum- 
stances of  immense  and  awful  interest  and  astounding 
peril  ?  Persist  in  this,  and  you  are  lost.  Ere  you  are 
aware,  will  come  the  unwaking  sleep  of  the  shroud 
and  sepulchre ;  and  the  soul,  neglected,  undone,  will 


304  THE   END   AT   HAND. 

be  driven  down  to  the  unsleeping  tortures,  the  ago- 
nized, earthquake  heavings  of  the  second  death.  Fall 
not  upon  this  doom  so  dreadful ;  but  turn  at  once  and 
avoid  it,  and  seek  that  other  destiny,  listening  to 
mercy's  call,  and  your  soul  shall  live  in  heaven  for 
ever. 


XXYI. 

CHRIST'S   COMINGS. 

But  as  the  days  of  JS/oe  were,  so  shall  also  the  coming  of  the 
Son  of  man  be.  For  as  in  the  days  that  were  before  the 
flood,  they  were  eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and  giving 
in  marriage,  until  the  day  that  Noe  entered  into  the  ark,  and 
knew  not  until  the  flood  came,  and  took  them  all  away:  so 
shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be.  —  Matt.  xxiv. 
37-39. 

T^  OR  as  in  the  days  that  were  before  the  flood.  There 
were  the  days,  the  years,  before  the  flood, 
constitutmg  a  period  of  nearly  seventeen  hundred 
years,  more  than  one-third  of  the  whole  term  of  time 
covered  by  the  record  of  the  sacred  Scriptures ;  and 
yet  the  whole  history  of  it  is  compressed  into  the  first 
six  chapters  of  the  Bible.  Here  all  the  history  there 
is  of  this  long  period ;  and  one  of  these  chapters  is 
filled  with  the  repetition  of  the  sombre  fact  touching 
each,  that  he  died.  Though  he  lived  so  long  as  might 
seem  to  establish  a  right  prescriptive  of  life  perpetual, 
yet,  in  each  case,  there  comes  the  same  dark  dash  at 
the  end  :  he  died. 

He  lived  nine  hundred  and  sixty-nine  years,  and  he 
died.  All  that  he  did,  his  honors  and  his  proud  gath- 
erings, the  whole,  is  put  under  the  shroud  of  the  sin- 
gle word,    he  died.      It  took  less  than  two   lives   to 

20 


306  Christ's  comings. 

reach  through  those  seventeen  hundred  years  before 
the  flood.  Those  enormous  stretches  of  life,  and  those 
huge,  broad  facts  of  contemporaneous  abiding,  look,  in- 
deed, and  sound,  strange  to  us.  When  Methuselah 
was  born,  Adam  was  six  hundred  and  eighty-seven 
years  of  age.  When  Adam  died,  Methuselah  was  two 
hundred  and  eighty-two  years  old.  The  man,  then, 
who  lived  up  to  the  very  year  of  the  flood  lived  also 
in  the  society  of  the  first  man  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
two  years. 

This  fact  of  enormous  reach  of  years,  doubtless, 
had  much  to  do  with  that  other  fact  which  brought 
on  the  flood,  namely,  the  great  wickedness  of  the  then 
living  world.  There  was  long  opportunity  to  nurture 
this  stalwart  growth  in  violence  and  crime.  And  the 
truth  then  obtained  which  later  inspiration  declared, 
and  all  experience  has  verified,  that  because  sentence 
against  an  evil  loork  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore 
the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do 
evil.  Under  this  law  of  long  living,  and  in  this  pros- 
pect of  a  remote  retribution,  all  hearts  rapidly  waxed 
worse ;  so  that  human  nature,  in  the  flight  of  a  few 
centuries,  in  a  period  less  than  of  two  continuous 
lives,  reached  a  point  of  wickedness  which  made  the 
Creator,  as  he  looked  upon  it,  heartily  sick  of  his 
work  ;  heartily  sorry,  that,  by  his  creative  fiat,  he  had 
ever  given  birth  to  the  material  of  such  baseness.  It 
repented  the  Lord  that  he  had  onade  man  on  the  earth, 
and  it  grieved  him  at  his  heart.  A  grievous  sight,  in- 
deed, when  he  looked  over  the  scene,  and  saw  that  the 
wickedness  of  man  was  great  in  the  earth,  and  that  every 
imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  ivas  only  evil 
continually  ;  outwardly,  enormous  crime,  violence,  cor- 


Christ's  comings.  307 

ruption,  in  all  their  forms,  making  it  a  world  fit  only 
to  be  terminated  by  a  violence  of  judgment  that 
should  answer  to  the  violence  of  the  depravity. 

One  single  pure  and  bright  name  breaks  that  other- 
wise turbid  sea  of  total  blackness.  And,  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  the  righteous  alone  is  remembered,  God 
marks  by  this  name  that  most  apostate  period,  calling 
it  the  days  of  JVoe.  Noah,  doubtless,  filled  a  larger 
space  in  the  divine  gaze  and  estimation  than  all  the 
millions  beside.  That  he  was  a  pre-eminently  good 
man  we  are  sure ;  called  of  God,  a  just  man  and  per- 
fect; again,  set  before  us  as  a  pattern  of  faith.  That 
he  stood  wholly  alone  in  this  character  and  testimony 
does  not  appear.  His  father  and  grandfather  were 
both  living  when  he  began  to  build  the  ark.  These, 
it  is  presumed,  were  both  pious.  If  so,  he  had  in 
these,  at  least,  sympathy  and  encouragement.  Still, 
in  one  sense,  Noah  did  stand  alone ;  for  he  was  the 
great  operator  and  leader  in  the  strange  and  gigantic 
project.  Heroic  and  sublime  his  standing,  solitary, 
yet  stable,  with  an  opposing  world  around  him.  A 
preacher  of  righteousness,  with  his  lips  he  proclaimed 
the  great  destruction ;  and  his  life,  his  strenuous  work, 
attested  the  impregnable  quality  of  his  faith.  A  pure 
man  like  him,  admitted  to  the  secrets  of  the  Almighty, 
how  likely  to  be  right  in  his  tremendous  proclamation. 
Then,  those  score  years  of  work,  every  stroke  of  the 
hammer,  every  bolt  that  was  driven  into  the  anoma- 
lous bulk,  which  was  to  save  those  God  appointed  for 
salvation,  all  went,  we  should  suppose,  to  rivet  the 
conviction,  —  if  there  were  in  the  sensuous  multitudes 
any  thoughtful  minds,  to  rivet  in  them  the  conviction, — 
that  the  destructive  storm  was  at  hand.     But  no :  this 


308  Christ's  comings. 

earnest  testifier,  by  his  words  of  warning,  backed  by 
his  deeds  of  faith,  produced  no  such  effect  upon  that 
wicked  generation  ;  they  not  repenting,  reforming,  get- 
ting ready.     They  were  doing  far  otherwise. 

How  sad  the  connection  of  parts  in  my  text.  There 
is  set  before  us  the  employment  of  that  doomed  race, 
eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage, 
no  thought  of  any  thing  else,  knowing,  dreaming  noth- 
ing to  the  contrary,  till  the  whelming  destruction 
broke  over  them.  Immersed  were  they  in  all  worldly 
gratifications,  and  knew  not  until  the  flood  came,  and 
took  them  all  away.  Evidently,  they  were  perfectly  at 
ease,  profoundly  unconcerned,  in  the  jovial  mood, 
liberal  interpreters  and  livers,  not  the  slightest  tinge 
of  fanaticism,  or  of  a  sombre,  ill-boding  piety,  in  their 
creed  or  their  constitution ;  confident,  eager  in  the 
range  of  a  smiling,  and  a  still  inviting  future,  a  sure 
and  joyous  future,  reckoned  by  centuries,  five,  six, 
seven  hundred  more  years  of  life :  so  it  was  up  to  the 
very  moment  the  commissioned  elements  laid  them 
all  together  in  one  liquid  grave.  That  which  followed 
we  can  think,  but  who  can  describe  ?  Who  can  paint 
the  scene,  when  the  waters  began  to  pour  down  from 
above,  and  break  and  heave  up  from  beneath  ?  Then 
belief  began,  and  the  wild  cry  waked.  The  flood  !  The 
flood  !  and  there  succeeded  frantic  fears  and  passion- 
ate laments,  imprecations  and  prayers.  Even  now 
the  world  dies,  as  it  did  before,  in  a  sort  of  succession. 
Some  yield  at  once:  others  battle  it  awhile,  and  so 
briefly  defer  their  destiny.  The  trees  and  the  hill- 
tops are  the  resorts  for  refuge.  The  men  who  scorned 
the  ark  when  warned  by  the  man  of  faith,  now,  under 
the  terrors  of  sight,  rush  for  these.     How  vain.     The 


Christ's  comings.  309 

flood  goes  over,  and  they  are  swept  into  the  insatiate 
waste.  The  more  brawny  arm,  that  struggles  for  a 
footing  on  a  higher  peak,  has  the  privilege  to  breathe  a 
little  longer.  Upward  the  waters  ruthlessly  swelled : 
fifteen  cubits  upward  did  they  prevail;  and  the  moun- 
tains were  covered.  The  work  was  complete  ;  and  this 
then  living  world  was  no  more,  except  the  eight 
souls,  saved  by  faith  and  works.  All  the  rest  believed 
not,  knew  not  until  the  flood  came,  and  took  them  all 
away.     So  shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  he. 

We  have,  in  the  preceding,  the  scene  and  style  of 
one  of  the  Lord's  great  comings  ;  his  coming,  accord- 
ing to  his  pre-declared  word,  to  destroy  the  world  b}^  a 
flood.  There  were  to  be  other  notable  comings.  One 
was  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  to  put  an  end  to 
the  old  dispensation  and  economy,  and  to  destroy  the 
city  which  was  the  seat  of  it,  and  the  temple  which 
was  the  symbol  of  it.  The  flood  was  typical  of  this 
coming ;  and  both  these  are  typical  of  another,  name- 
ly, the  final  coming.  As  was  the  Lord's  coming  to 
destroy  the  old  world  by  a  flood,  so  shall  be  his  com- 
ing to  put  an  end  to  the  world  that  now  is.  The  old 
world  met  its  overthrow  by  water.  The  world  that 
now  is  awaits  a  destruction  by  fire.  The  Apostle 
Peter  states  this  in  all  clearness.  That  the  world  that 
then  was,  being  overflowed  with  water,  perished.  But 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  which  are  now,  hy  the  same 
word  are  kept  in  store,  reserved  unto  fire  against  the  day 
of  judgment  and  perdition  of  ungodly  men.  No  one  can 
doubt  that  it  will  be  literally  by  fire. 

We,  of  this  time,  stand  between  history  and  proph- 
ecy :  behind  is  the  fearful  past ;  on,  the  more  fearful 
future.     The  things  God  has  done  do  symbolize  and 


31 Q  Christ's  comings. 

assure  to  us  the  things  he  will  do.  Our  position,  then, 
is  singularly  favorable  for  the  securing  of  our  safety, 
if  we  will.  An  antecedent  world  has  perished,  that 
we  might  not  perish.  So  it  is,  that  the  principle  of 
vicariousness  runs  through  all  God's  administration 
of  the  world.  In  every  accident,  by  boat  or  rail,  those 
who  perish  give  their  lives  for  the  greater  security  of 
all  travellers  coming  after  them  on  those  ill-fated  lines. 
The  scores  that  went  down,  years  since,  in  that  plunge 
at  Norwalk  were  a  sacrifice  to  the  safety  of  all  since  at 
that  spot.  The  same  thing  God  intends  in  these 
greater  historic  affairs.  Events  of  a  world-wide  knowl- 
edge, that  throw  their  lurid  glare  all  across  the  heav- 
ens, arrest  and  warn  all  succeeding  generations.  Thus 
this  now  before  us,  in  which  the  world,  according  to 
century-spoken  word,  went  suddenly  down,  was  de- 
signed to  benefit  all  who  should  come  after.  This 
comes  out  in  that  prospective  turn  in  our  text,  So  shall 
also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  he.  If  the  destruc- 
tion is  before  us  in  close  resemblance,  and  we  may 
read  the  detail  in  veritable  and  palpable  transaction, 
all  divinely  recorded  for  our  warning,  then,  have  we 
not  great  advantages  for  escape  ?  And  is  not  God, 
once  so  severe  in  destruction,  tenderly  good  in  the 
revelation  ?  Look  back  and  behold.  Look  forward 
and  consider.  So  shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of 
man  he.  What  do  we  learn  in  this  past  that  is  pro- 
motive of  our  escape,  our  redemption,  in  that  day? 
What  must  we  learn,  admit,  and  practise  if  we  would 
escape  ? 

1.  We  learn,  and  this  let  us  lay  to  heart,  that  the 
fact  of  delay  in  the  coming  of  a  judgment,  or  a  retribu- 
tion, makes  not  at  all  against  it,  as  coming  at  some 


Christ's  comings.  311 

time.  On  this  very  point  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
wrong  reasoning  and  concluding.  We  find  it  abound- 
ing in  that  earliest  antiquity.  God  spake,  he  uttered 
the  threatening ;  and  then  God  waited  over  the  slow 
track  of  more  than  a  century  for  purposes  of  mercy. 
This  long  period,  which  he  gave  them  for  repenting, 
they  spent  in  proving  that  the  shocking  disaster  would 
never  come.  And  this  was  their  one  argument.  It  does 
not  come ;  a  hundred  years  gone,  and  no  appearance 
of  it.  On  this  premise  they  all  slept  together  in  per- 
fect security  ;  and  it  did  come,  and  took  them  all  away. 
Men,  everywhere,  are  strangely  given  to  reasoning  in 
a  like  perverse  process  from  God's  delaying,  showing 
that  he  will  not  because  he  does  not.  Peter  found  them 
in  his  day,  and  he  stereotyped  their  phrase,  or  their 
say,  thus :  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  ?  for, 
since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all  things  continue  as  they 
were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation.  Not  quite  so 
far  back,  ye  old  cavillers,  as  the  beginning  of  the  crea- 
tion. There  was  the  flood  to  break  the  smooth  march 
of  the  world's  history ;  and  the  flood  foretold  the  fire. 
The  delay  about  the  flood  explains  the  delay  about  the 
fire ;  shows  that  there  may  be  tlie  delay,  and  yet  the 
burning  come.  Delay  of  tlie  punitive  stroke  is  the  very 
reason  for  the  more  fearing  it ;  for  it  is  stronger,  heav- 
ier, more  terrible  for  the  delay.  Have  we  not  noticed  in 
the  storm,  the  longer  the  lull  the  more  destructive  the 
succeeding  blast ;  in  the  play  of  heaven's  hidden  artil- 
lery, the  longer  the  space  of  calm  and  silence  the  more 
earth-rocking  the  explosion  that  followed  ?  because,  in 
the  delay,  there  was  a  cumulating  and  gathering-up  of 
destructive  forces.  This  law  in  nature  seems  also  a 
law  in  life.     The  hasty  man,  for  example,  anger  him  ; 


312  cheist's  comings. 

quick  as  you  touch  him  he  goes  off,  a  mere  flash  ;  no 
lead  or  bolt  there.  Take  another  sort  of  man.  Anger 
him.  He  takes  it  quietly,  and  hides  his  wrath  and 
purpose  down  in  the  secrecy  of  his  nature,  and  then 
waits  for  his  opportunity.  Such  a  man  is  to  be  con- 
sidered. It  is  well  to  make  your  peace  with  him.  The 
comparison,  as  illustrating  the  divine  principle,  or  pro- 
cedure, holds  only  at  this  point,  that  strength  and  fear- 
fulness  accrue  to  God's  judgments  from  the  long  delays 
in  his  returns  of  retribution.  God  is  to  be  especially 
feared  because  he  is  so  patient,  so  slow. 

2.  I  shall  lead  you  to  consider,  in  the  second  place, 
how  strong  are  the  grounds  of  belief  that  this  great 
coming  with  fire  is  indeed  not  far  before  us.  Let  us 
consider  these  grounds,  that  we  may  come  to  believe 
profoundly  and  practically  in  that  coming  ;  that  we  may 
cease  to  disbelieve  in  regard  to  it ;  that  we  may  part 
with  that  universal  company  of  the  olden  time,  who, 
to  a  man,  disbelieved  it ;  and  part,  too,  with  that  large 
company  of  the  present  time,  who  try  to  disbelieve  it. 
The  modern  disbeliever  is  far  the  guiltier  of  the  two ; 
for  then  there  was  no  precedent.  No  such  thing  had 
been  done  as  destruction  by  a  flood  ;  and  there  was  no 
rain  to  do  it  with.  The  rain  that  drowned  the  earth,  it 
is  believed,  was  the  earth's  first  rain.  How  unlikely,  to  a 
generation  that  never  saw  rain,  that  they  would  perish 
by  it.  Yet  they  did  :  we  have  the  precedent.  God 
then  said  it,  and  he  did  it.  We  have  the  same  word 
for  the  greater  coming  with  fire.  And  we  have  the 
fire  ;  a  world  with  all  its  caverns  and  bowels  filled  full 
of  it ;  and  it  rages  and  presses  against,  and  shakes  the 
crust  on  which  we  now  stand,  and  it  snorts  out  at  all 
the  openings  in  columns  that  reach  to  the  clouds,  and 


Christ's  comings.  •  313 

quantities  that  whelm  vast  tracts  with  the  molten  ruin. 
With  the  precedent  before  us  of  a  world's  drowning  by 
rain,  when  no  rain  had  been,  can  we  hesitate  to  believe 
that  other  coming  amid  deluges  and  burials  of  fire, 
when  that  same  word  has  said  it,  and  when  the  mate- 
rial is  all  in  store,  yea,  when  it  is  probably  true,  that, 
if  that  omnific  word  did  not  hold  it  in  check,  the  next 
hour  it  might  break  out  upon  us  ?  With  such  a  pre- 
cedent, —  God  saying  it,  and  holding  the  imprisoned 
fires  all  ready  to  do  it,  my  friends,  —  do  not  disbelieve 
it.  No  matter  how  many  others  do  disbelieve  it.  The 
whole  world  may  disbelieve  it,  this  uttered  thing  of 
God  will  be.  In  the  other  case,  the  entire  world  did 
disbelieve  it,  and  yet  it  fell  upon  them;  when  the 
time  came,  they  all  curled  down  and  took  it.  It  is 
something  in  the  right  direction  to  admit  the  fact :  the 
disbelief  of  men  cannot  make  the  word  of  God  of  none 
effect.  It  does  sometimes  seem  as  though  people 
thought  that  God's  affairs  would  go  by  majorities. 
Vote  him  down,  and  he  will  not  do  it.  Those  ancient 
presumers  tried  this  to  their  sorrow.  They  had  mil- 
lions to  one ;  and  yet  the  Lord  proceeded,  and  did  it. 

It  is  a  fact  that  mounts  up  to  the  awfully  sublime, 
the  forth-standing  fact  that  God's  providences,  the  laws 
and  principles  of  his  administration,  do  move  steadily 
and  inflexibly  on ;  and  they  will,  no  matter  what  men 
think  or  say.  We  may  exscind  facts,  remove  the  land- 
marks, deny  great  principles ;  but,  really,  nothing  is 
altered.  These  great  laws  and  principles  of  the  Al- 
mighty still  abide ;  they  are  marching  on ;  they  are 
executed,  and  they  execute.  Sad  for  any  of  us,  if  we 
are  in  the  way,  when  the  on-going  wheels  strike  to 
crush.     Oh,  how  they  crush,  when  they  strike. 


314  cheist's  comings. 

*Si9  shall  also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  he.  It  is  writ 
in  all  history,  in  the  changeless  word  divine,  in  the 
frame  and  bowels  of  the  earth  itself,  and  on  all  our 
living  souls,  ordained  and  God-spoken,  ere  long  to  be, 
the  final  coming  of  the  Son  of  man.  Believe  it,  and 
make  not  God  a  liar.  Believe  it,  that  you  may  be 
ready  to  meet  it.  There  is  no  arithmetic  that  will 
help  us  in  this  matter  of  making  out  the  exact  time. 
It  is  the  one  event,  now  and  onward,  the  one  great 
event  which  summons  to  itself  the  eye  and  heart  of 
the  men  of  all  time.  It  is  sure.  It  is  near.  By  some 
law  of  God's  progression  I  believe  it  is  near.  The  one 
vivid  word  of  his  warning  phrase  is,  quickly.  Behold, 
I  come  quickly.  As  when  strong  men  step  from  the 
tread  of  business  into  the  presence  of  God,  —  in  such 
an  hour  as  ye  think  not. 

The  storm,  it  is  there.  The  exposed,  it  is  we.  See 
the  ark  at  hand  ;  behold  the  living  refuge,  Jesus,  the 
mighty  Deliverer.  I  announce,  to-day,  your  opportu- 
nity. Flee  now  to  him  while  you  may.  Take,  oh,  take 
him  by  faith  ;  and  the  act  will  be  your  defence  and  your 
joy  for  ever. 


XXVII. 

DEATH  ABOLISHED. 
Who  hath  abolished  death.  —  2  Tim.  i.  10. 

IT  is  Christ  who  hath  done  this.  Abolished  death,  —  a 
remarkable  expression  ;  abolished  death, — aremark- 
ble  and  most  beneficent  work.  What  the  meaning  of 
this  phrase,  what  the  work  described  ?  We  are,  of 
course,  to  receive  the  phrase,  and  the  work  affirmed 
by  it,  with  some  limitations.  The  benefit  does  not 
extend  to  all :  it  has  the  limitation  which  faitli  gives 
it.  This  everywhere  declared,  and  most  emphatically 
in  our  Saviour's  conference  with  Martha :  Jesus  said 
unto  her,  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life  :  he  that  be- 
lieveth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ;  and 
whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die.  It 
is,  then,  in  the  case  of  those  who  believe  in  Christ,  that 
death  is  abolished ;  and  even  here  it  is  not  a  literal 
abolishment.  We  know  of  but  two  followers  of  God 
who  have  been  absolved  from  death.  The  fact  of 
death,  the  unalterable  necessity,  then,  abides.  All 
must  die,  the  soul  be  separated  from  the  body,  and  the 
body  lie  down  in  the  grave  and  see  corruption.  The 
bodily  pains  of  death  are  not  abolished.  These  re- 
main in  their  intensity,  often,  in  the  case  of  those  to 
whom  the  words  of  our  text  have  their  full  application. 


316  DEATH   ABOLISHED. 

The  sinking,  the  suffering,  the  dread  convulsion, — 
these  are  not  done  away. 

How,  then,  can  it  be  said  that  death  is  abolished. 
The  word  rendered  abolished  means  to  bring  to  an 
end,  to  take  away,  render  void,  unproductive,  power- 
less. When  we  utter  the  word  death,  we  utter  what 
is  evil,  the  perfection  and  consummation  of  all  evil : 
it  is  a  terrible  word,  a  terrible  thing.  "We  can  say 
nothing  beyond.  It  is  death.  Now  the  essential  evil, 
which  gives  this  event  the  pre-eminence  and  the  terri- 
bleness  of  death,  is  taken  away.  The  deadliness  of 
death  is  removed.  Death  is  abolished,  because  every 
deadly  element  and  energy  of  it  is  counter-worked, 
completely  nullified;  the  mischief,  the  evil,  either 
taken  away  or  turned  to  advantage. 

Let  us,  in  this  stage,  look  at  some  of  the  evils,  the 
forbidding,  the  terrible  things  in  death.  It  is  repre- 
sented as  armed  with  an  envenomed  sting;  as  the 
enemy  of  our  race ;  the  last  enemy  that  shall  he  de- 
stroyed;  a  king  with  his  prostrate  empire,  the  king  of 
terrors.  The  pains  which  are  commonly  the  forerun- 
ners and  attendants  of  death,  —  these  scouts  of  the 
enemy  ;  these  incursions  upon  our  tabernacle ;  these 
blows  upon  the  building,  knocking  away  its  props,  and 
reducing  its  strength,  —  all  these  are  appalling,  both  in 
the  prospect  and  the  endurance.  They  give  to  the 
scene  the  repulsive  features  of  death :  they  make  us 
recoil  from  the  experience  and  the  embrace.  Pains 
which  are  to  attain  their  climax  in  such  an  issue, 
which  are  to  end  only  as  they  end  by  their  own  vio- 
lence, are  to  most  people  very  formidable.  This  final 
pang,  the  wrench  that  snaps  the  cord,  is  often  dreaded 
when  all  other  disquietude  is  passed  away.      Some 


DEATH   ABOLISHED.  317 

fear  dying,  not  the  being  dead,  tlie  passion,  not  the 
state. 

Another  source  of  apprehension  in  the  thought  of 
death  is  found  in  its  sunderings.  It  takes  us  from 
friends ;  those  long  familiar,  dear  to  the  heart  on  ac- 
count of  kindred  ties,  or  social  excellencies,  or  kindly 
offices.  It  takes  us  from  sights  pleasant  to  the  eye ; 
the  green  earth,  and  the  vaulted  heavens ;  from  all 
the  beauty  and  magnificence  of  nature ;  from  antici- 
pations yet  to  be  realized;  from  plans  unfinished,  and 
enterprises  on  the  eve  of  accomplishment ;  from  es- 
tates laboriously  accvimulated,  and  comforts  industri- 
ously brought  together,  and  all  ready  to  be  enjoyed. 
Death  as  the  inexorable  alienator  of  all  these,  the 
ruthless  sunderer,  tearing  us  away,  shutting  up  the 
eye,  blasting  the  hope,  putting  an  end  to  all  earthly 
possession  and  enjoyment,  is  a  wasting  intruder.  We 
find  a  dread  and  pang  here.  There  is  one  item,  in 
this  work  of  separation,  to  which  nature  comes  only 
with  reluctance  and  revulsion  ?  It  is  the  parting  of 
the  soul  and  the  body,  linked  as  they  are  by  a  myste- 
rious tie,  made  one  in  sympathy,  in  suffering,  in  re- 
joicing. Having  so  long  dwelt  together  in  concord, 
in  identity  even,  how  can  the  forcing  asunder  be  but 
with  recoiling  and  misgiving  ?  For  the  spirit  to  leave 
its  dwelling  and  its  organs  of  communication,  become 
unclothed,  and  try  existence  by  itself  in  an  unknown 
scene,  is  a  mighty  adventure,  a  fearful  leap.  There 
is  another  thing  under  the  head  of  deprivation  I  will 
allude  to.  There  is  an  evil  and  a  pang  in  death,  as  it 
often  appears  to  the  good  man,  that  it  takes  him  pre- 
maturely, in  his  full  strength,  perhaps,  from  the  field 
of  his  Christian  toils,  where  there  is  so  much  to  be 


318  DEATH    ABOLISHED. 

doue,  and  so  few  to  do  it ;  where  society  is  corrupting, 
and  millions  are  perishing,  and  where  every  genial 
seed  that  is  cast  bears  its  hundred-fold.  It  seems 
hard  for  him  to  die,  and  leave  so  much  misery  behind 
whose  removal  he  had  projected  ;  die  with  his  heart's 
holy  desires  so  far  unachieved ;  hard  for  him,  in  these 
circumstances,  to  qiiit  his  labors  for  the  awaiting  rest, 
to  lay  off  his  armor  and  put  on  his  crown. 

Another  formidable  feature  in  death,  another  source 
of  evil  and  disquietude,  is  found  in  its  introductions ; 
not  only  in  what  it  takes  us  from,  but  also  in  what  it 
takes  us  to. 

It  introduces  the  body  to  the  grave,  the  spirit  to  the 
unseen  world.  The  grave  is  looked  upon  very  com- 
monly as  a  gloomy  abode.  The  dishonors  there  done 
to  this  boasted  fabric  are  thought  of  with  no  satisfac- 
tion. Most  regard  it  as  a  dreadful  necessity  which 
dooms  them  to  the  processes  and  the  banquetings  of 
that  place  ;  death  a  most  direful  thing  for  its  dealings 
with,  and  its  disposition  of,  the  body. 

But  the  essential  evil,  the  crowning  fear  of  death, 
lies  not  here.  It  is  in  the  soul's  introduction  into 
another  state.  Death  delivers  over  the  soul  into  eter- 
nity, to  reckon  with  its  Maker,  and  reap  the  reward 
of  its  deeds.  There  has  been,  we  will  suppose,  —  ah, 
how  common,  —  a  life  of  transgression,  of  forgetful- 
ness  of  God,  and  abuse  of  his  mercies,  a  not  living  for 
the  great  end  which  God  has  ordained.  Men  may 
deny  that  it  is  so,  and  affirm  their  own  innocence ; 
that  they  have  done  no  one  any  wrong,  but  have  lived 
justly  and  worthily.  But  death  is  an  honest  hour,  a 
detecting  and  revealing  season,  bringing  out  the 
thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart.    Commonly,  the  ver- 


DEATH   ABOLISHED.  819 

diet  conscience  rings  at  that  hour  through  the  cham- 
bers of  the  soul  is  heard.  Its  true  verdict  is  that  sin 
is  upon  the  soul.  This  is  death's  sting.  This,  more 
than  all  other  things,  makes  dying  such  a  work  of 
dread  and  of  agony  ;  not  so  much  the  pain  of  dying  as 
the  pain,  the  sorrow,  that  lies  beyond ;  the  fear,  the 
foretastes,  of  God's  inflicted  wrath.  Death,  as  the  be- 
ginning of  this,  is  a  bitter  cup ;  as  the  door  to  this,  an 
iron  gate.  There  is  something  solemn,  awful  even, 
in  going  forth  upon  an  untried  scene ;  in  entering 
upon  a  new  mode  of  existence,  in  a  new  form  of 
being.  But  to  look  out  upon  that  region  when  just 
ready  to  launch  forth,  and  know  it  is  an  unfriendly 
region,  the  Being  ruling  there  in  righteousness  made 
our  enemy  by  our  impenitent  and  ungodly  living ;  to 
know  that  unerring  justice  will  there  deal  with  us  for 
our  sins ;  that  we  have  come  to  the  very  border,  and 
another  breath  or  two,  and  we  are  in  the  midst  of  the 
tremendous  realities,  —  this  is  death.  Here  is  the 
sting.  There  have  been  many  instances  of  this  God 
has  made  signal,  shocking  to  witness,  and  we  could 
only  describe,  by  saying,  that  is  death. 

This  it  is  which  Christ  has  abolished :  not  all  that 
is  painful,  but  all  that  is  evil,  all  that  is  terrible,  all 
that  is  stinging  in  death,  he  has  abolished. 

That  we  may  see  how  this  is  done,  how  it  is  Christ 
abolishes  death ;  that  we  may  view  the  admirable  and 
perfect  theory  of  the  matter,  and  at  the  same  time 
view  the  admirable  fitness,  and  power,  and  resources 
of  Christ  for  this  work  of  our  deliverance, — let  me  re- 
call the  essential  and  fearful  evil  of  death  in  the  three 
particulars  I  have  mentioned ;  namely,  its  pains,  its 
deprivations,  and   its   introductions ;   and  show  how 


320  DEATH   ABOLISHED. 

each  of  these  is  met  and  counter-worked  by  the  pro- 
vision and  grace  of  our  Redeemer.  1.  Clianging  the 
order,  placing  first  the  last-named  particular, —  death, 
as  seizing  and  introducing  us  into  the  future,  the  state 
of  retribution,  this  called  the  sting  of  death,  the  es- 
sence and  source  of  all  the  other  trouble,  — this  is  taken 
away  completely,  every  vestige  of  it  removed.  2.  The 
privations  of  death  are  answered  by  being  infinitely 
more  than  made  up.  3.  The  pains  of  death,  bitter, 
protracted,  wasting  as  they  may  be,  are  all  turned  to 
our  advantage.  What,  then,  is  left,  worthy  the  name 
of  death  ? 

1.  The  sting,  the  venom,  the  essential  deadli- 
ness  of  death,  is  taken  away.  And  it  is  done  in 
this  perfect  and  blessed  mode.  The  sting  of  death  is 
sin:  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  The  law  trans- 
gressed comes  upon  the  soul  with  its  demands,  iter- 
ates and  insists  upon  the  penalty,  eternal  death ;  a 
just  demand,  a  righteous  penalty.  The  sinning  soul, 
in  that  revealing  hour,  knows  it  to  be  so  ;  and,  so  far 
as  any  thing  in  itself  is  concerned,  lies  under  the 
mighty  condemnation.  Here  the  envenomed,  triumph- 
ing malignity  of  sin.  This  Christ  has  taken  upon 
himself.  This  cursing,  damning  strength  of  the  law, 
expended,  yea,  exhausted  itself,  upon  Christ,  when  he 
was  made  by  his  own  voluntary  offering  a  curse  for 
us.  When  death  struck  his  sting,  envenomed  as  it 
was  by  the  added  sins  of  the  world,  —  when,  with  his 
most  malignant  gust,  he  struck  it  thus  deep  into  the 
body  of  Christ,  —  the  agony,  the  death,  of  that  meek  vic- 
tim was  dreadful  beyond  all  parallel  in  the  experience 
of  dying.  But  death  lost  his  sting  in  the  effort,  like 
that  venomous  creature,  who,  it  is  said,  stings  once, 


DEATH  ABOLISHED.  321 

and  deposits  and  surrenders  both  his  venom  and  his 
life  together. 

Death  now  has  no  more  power  to  trouble  or  hurt, 
by  means  of  the  law,  those  who  have  sought  refuge  in 
Christ.  Paul  brings  out  the  whole  glorious  idea, 
when  he  says,  There  is  therefore  notv  no  condeynnation  to 
them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  He  comes  forth  on 
this  point,  with  an  all-challenging  audacity,  if  you 
please  to  call  it  thus.  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It 
is  Christ  that  died,  yea,  rather,  that  is  risen  again. 
Here  is  a  fact  and  an  argument  confounding  to  the 
fell  destroyer.  He  cannot  stand  before  it ;  it  cripples 
his  strength,  and  removes  all  his  disturbing  and  hurt- 
ing power.  Thus  the  terrible  in  death,  the  stinging, 
the  destroying  element,  is  taken  away  by  Christ,  en- 
during it  in  his  people's  stead. 

2.  Then,  secondly,  the  pains  attending  decay  and 
death  are  all  turned  to  the  soul's  benefit,  in  this,  that 
they  are  a  discipline,  they  purify  through  grace  ;  they 
spiritualize  and  elevate ;  they  graduate  and  smooth  the 
descent  to  the  grave,  leading  gently  on  to  the  last  con- 
flict, to  the  disrupting  agony,  and  preparing  for  it,  as 
they  lead  the  way.  Though  hard  to  bear,  a  heavy  and 
wearying  burden,  they  make  heavier  the  crown  of  life 
and  the  eternal  weight  of  glory. 

3.  The  third  item,  the  deprivations  of  death  are  in- 
finitely more  than  made  up.  The  departing  one  has 
friends,  we  will  suppose,  with  whom  he  took  sweet 
counsel.  He  leaves  them,  parts  from  them,  for  a  sea- 
son ;  but  he  goes  to  an  innumerable  com.pany  of  angels, 
to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-bom, 
which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God  the  Judge  of  all, 
and  to  the  spirits  of  Just  men  made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus 

21 


322  DEATH    ABOLISHED. 

the  Mediator  of  the  New  Covenant.  He  leaves  worldly 
possessions,  but  he  never  regarded  them  as  absolutely 
his.  God  made  him  a  steward  over  so  much,  and 
when  he  dies,  he  only  resigns  his  office.  Well  for  him, 
if  he  has  done  his  duty  in  the  place.  What  if  he  does 
leave  accumulated  wealth  and  imposing  magnificence  ; 
if  a  Christian,  he  goes  to  a  building  of  Grod,  a  house 
not  made  loith  hands,  to  an  unfading  inheritance,  to  the 
heirship  of  all  things.  He  parts  from  his  body,  that 
intimate  companion,  and  instrument  of  all  his  func- 
tions, without  whom  he  has  never  existed  a  moment, 
and  without  whom,  how  he  shall  subsist,  is  all  a 
mystery  to  him.  He  trusts  God,  and  surrenders  the 
building;  but  it  is  only  for  a  season,  to  be  received 
back  again,  a  glorious  and  a  deathless  structure.  The 
burial  is  but  a  sowing.  Does  any  wonder,  and  mur- 
mur at  God's  way  in  this  matter  ?  The  rebuke  meets 
his  rashness.  Thou  fool,  that  which  thou  soivest  is  not 
quickened  except  it  die.  The  corruption  to  which  it  is 
doomed  is  a  refining  and  preparing  process,  all  carried 
on  in  God's  hidden  but  wonder-working  laboratory. 
It  is  sown  in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in  incorruption.  It 
is  sown  in  dishonor,  it  is  raised  in  glory.  It  is  sown  in 
weakness,  it  is  raised  in  poiver.  It  is  sown  a  natural 
hody,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body.  You  see  what  he 
lays  down,  you  see  what  he  receives  back.  No :  you 
do  not  see  that :  you  cannot  imagine  it,  that  spiritual 
body,  brought  up  in  power,  made  like  unto  Christ's 
glorious  body.  That  you  will  not  comprehend,  till  it 
shall  be  rebuilt,  and  revealed  and  restored  unto  you. 
Thus  the  temporary  bodily  privation  shall  be  incom- 
parably more  than  made  up  to  him.  Death  snatches 
a   mean    spoil :    death's    Conqueror   restores   back   a 


DEATH    ABOLISHED.  323 

splendid  dwelling-place,  a  building  and  robe  of  im- 
mortality. Then,  again,  the  life  that  is  surrendered 
here,  that  seems  to  flicker  and  go  out,  there  is  no  ex- 
tinction, no  suspension  even,  no  intermediate  sleep. 
It  is  only  a  change  of  place  ;  the  instant  it  leaves  here 
it  enters  there.  The  last  throb  on  earth  is  followed, 
in  a  moment,  by  a  quick  and  exultant  emotion  in 
heaven  ;  life  in  its  fulness,  in  its  ever-perennial  vigor  ; 
in  its  wondering  freshness,  in  its  overflowing,  tri- 
umphing joys.  The  death  is  passed :  now  it  is  eternal 
life. 

I  ask  here,  at  the  end  of  this  argument,  every  step 
and  turn  of  which  I  have  taken  out  of  the  Bible,  I 
ask,  What  is  there  left  of  death,  after  he  has  passed 
through  the  spoiling  hands  of  our  victorious  Em- 
manuel ?  What  do  you  find  remaining,  that  you  can 
properly  call  death  ?  We  conclude,  at  once,  with  a 
firm  logic  and  a  firmer  faith,  that  nothing  remains. 
The  work  is  done  almost  to  the  letter.  Death  is  abol- 
ished. We  ascribe  the  whole  work  to  our  blessed 
Lord.  We  will  do  it  living ;  and  if,  when  dying,  we 
may  chose  our  last  faltering  utterance,  it  shall  be, 
Thanks  he  to  Cfod,  ivhich  giveth  us  the  victory  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

But  let  me  guard  this  point.  When  we  say  that 
death  is  abolished,  we  would  not  have  it  understood 
that  it  is  a  small  or  light  matter  to  die.  With  all  the 
alleviations  and  sustaining  hopes,  it  is  a  solemn  thing 
to  die ;  a  solemn  thing  even  to  die  in  the  Lord,  to  ex- 
change worlds,  to  stand  before  God,  to  pass  the  solemn 
test,  to  enter  upon  another  state,  an  opening  immor- 
tality. It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  passed  beyond,  to 
have  gone  over  the  stream,  and  be  dwelling  safely  on 


324  DEATH   ABOLISHED, 

the  other  side ;  to  have  had  the  experience,  and  re- 
corded the  pangs,  and  have  vrritten  in  our  own  case 
the  whole  history  of  death.  Blessed  are  all  those. 
We  trembled  for  them  in  the  conflict.  We  looked  on 
in  stillness  and  in  sadness.  We  did  pity :  we  now  cry, 
Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord. 

The  Christian  should  so  improve  all  his  opportuni- 
ties, all  his  privileges,  all  the  disciplining  events  of 
God's  providence,  that  death  in  his  case,  when  it 
comes,  shall  be  abolished ;  that,  when  brought  to  the 
dread  encounter,  there  shall  be  nothing  for  him  to  do 
but  to  yield  and  to  conquer ;  and  so  himself  become 
an  added  fact  in  the  long  line  of  argument  that  death 
is  indeed  done  away,  Happy  if  we  are  found  thus 
ready  ;  happier  infinitely  than  the  world  can  make  us, 
happy  as  God  and  heaven  with  their  own  imparted  ful- 
ness can  make  us. 


xxvni. 

SPIKITUAL    BODY. 

So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is  sown  in  corrup- 
tion ;  it  is  raised  in  incorruption.  It  is  sown  in  dishonor  ; 
it  is  raised  in  glory.  It  is  sown  in  weakness  ;  it  is  raised 
in  power.  It  is  sown  a  natural  body  ;  it  is  raised  a  spiritual 
body.  There  is  a  natural  body,  and  there  is  a  spiritual 
body.  —  1  Cor.  xv.  42-44. 

TN  the  present  discourse,  I  shall  treat,  not  of  the 
•^  fact  or  doctrine  of  the  resurrection,  but  of  the  pro- 
duct of  the  resurrection. 

The  fact  or  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body 
I  assume ;  and  yet  not  altogether  assume,  but  prove 
it  by  one  text  of  Scripture ;  a  text  which  no  exegeti- 
cal  torture  can  make  to  speak  any  thing  else,  namely, 
this,  Marvel  not  at  this :  for  the  hour  is  coming,  in  the 
which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice,  that 
is,  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  man,  and  shall  come  forth; 
they  that  have  dotie  good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life ; 
and  they  that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  dam- 
nation. 

At  the  present  time,  we  have  to  do  with  the  resur- 
rection body.  And  here,  at  the  outset,  let  me  premise 
two  things. 

One  is,  that,  in  our  description  of  the  raised,  recon- 
structed body,  we  have  in  view,  almost  exclusively,  the 


326  SPIRITUAL   BODY. 

bodies  of  the  just ;  those  which  come  forth  to  a  resur- 
rection of  life.  The  Bible  does  this.  It  does  not  go 
into  any  detail,  or  particularity,  respecting  the  future 
bodies  of  the  wicked.  From  this  circumstance  the 
inference  has  been  drawn  that  the  wicked  will  not  be 
raised.  But  the  fact  of  their  rising  out  of  the  grave 
is  as  clearly  and  strongly  asserted  as  the  rising  of  the 
rigliteous.  The  fact  is  the  main  thing ;  and  it  is  the 
unescapable  thing.  There  is  no  getting  away  from 
the  fact  that  there  is  to  be  a  coming  forth  of  the  body 
from  the  grave. 

This  leads  to  the  other  matter  I  wish  to  premise, 
namely,  that  nothing  said  on  the  theoretical  part  of 
the  subject  should  be  seized  and  used  to  prejudice  the 
great  fact  in  the  case.  The  body  is  to  be  raised  at 
the  last  day  :  it  is  to  be  made  a  spiritual  body.  These 
are  facts ;  the  rising,  and  the  product  of  that  rising, 
solemn,  incontrovertible  verities.  But  we  may  think, 
imagine,  speculate,  about  the  qualities  of  that  spiritual 
body.  It  is  proper  that  we  should  glean,  as  we  can, 
and  gather  into  one  ray  all  the  scattered  light  of 
Scripture ;  proper  that  we  gather  what  intimation  we 
can  from  reason,  and  the  analogy  of  things.  In  this 
way  we  frame  a  discourse  upon  the  spiritual  body. 
But  it  is  liable,  on  the  part  of  those  dispospd  to  pick 
flaws  in  our  argument,  to  the  charge  that  it  is  chiefly 
speculation,  theory,  fancy.  Furthermore,  it  is  liable 
to  this  sophism,  that,  it  being  speculation,  theory, 
therefore  no  reliable  truth  about  it.  The  sopliism, 
rather  the  ruinous  deception,  is  in  burying  the  great 
heaven-descended  and  heaven-illumined  fact  beneath 
the  reasonings  and  the  speculations  upon  the  fact.  The 
fact  is  God's ;  and  it  will  live  and  shine  when  the  sun 


SPIRITUAL   BODY.  327 

has  done  shining.  We  ask  you  to  hold  on  upon  that. 
If  you  do  not,  we  tell  you  that  will  hold  on  upon 
you,  and  will  find  }0u  out,  every  atom  of  you,  when  all 
your  bones  shall  have  been  powdered.  The  great  fact 
of  a  resurrection,  the  great  reality  of  a  spiritual  body, 
we  pray  yovi  in  God's  name  to  receive  and  respect. 
Our  conjectures  and  theorizings  are  anotlier  matter,  to 
be  tried  at  the  bar  of  reason  and  Scripture ;  and  if 
recreant,  let  them  fall.  But  here  we  stand  on  a  plat- 
form built  by  Him  who  built  the  world,  found  in  this 
declaration,  There  is  a  natural  hody^  and  there  is  a 
spiritual  body.  The  natural  body  is  what  we  now  have. 
The  spiritual  body  is  what  we  shall  have.  What  the 
natural  body  is,  we  know  perfectly  well,  namely,  this 
animal  body  ;  a  body  whose  functions  are  all  fitted  to 
this  animal  life ;  a  body  nurtured  and  sustained  by 
natural  means.  It  is  the  body  that  suffers,  that  dies, 
that  we  commit  to  the  earth.  The  spiritual  body  :  here 
we  open  into  a  field  of  mystery.  But  still  we  know 
something,  because  the  Bible  says  something.  Indeed, 
it  utters  all  the  great  essential  facts,  the  sublime  re- 
sults in  the  case. 

There  is  a  spiritual  body.  Here  we  make  one  point 
on  the  authority  of  Scripture,  namely,  it  is  a  body. 
The  soul  at  the  resurrection  receives  a  body ;  in  an 
important  sense  receives  back  the  body.  This  mortal 
7nust  put  on  immortality  :  language  full  of  striking  and 
wonderful  meaning,  teaching  that  human  nature,  re- 
constructed from  the  grave,  is  to  inhabit  eternity.  As 
one  forcibly  remarks,  "  Not  an  ethereal  rudiment,  just 
saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  former  fabric,  and  just 
serving  to  connect,  as  by  a  film  of  identity,  the  earthly 
with  the  heavenly  ;  it  is  this  mortal.    The  very  nature, 


328  SPIRITUAL  BODY. 

now  subject  to  dissolution,  is  to  escape  from  the  power 
of  death,  and  to  clothe  itself  in  imperishable  vigor." 
But  the  phrase,  a  spiritual  body,  seems  to  be  a  contra- 
diction in  terms :  in  other  words,  a  body  all  spirit. 
It  cannot  be  a  body  all  spirit,  since  body  necessarily  in- 
volves the  presence  of  matter.  And  the  extent  to  which 
matter  may  be  refined  and  etherealized  we  cannot,  in  our 
present  grosstiess,  fully  understand.  That  the  product 
of  the  resurrection  is  a  body,  a  material  structure,  of 
wonderful  properties,  is  the  basis  of  all  the  apostle's 
reasoning  on  the  subject,  —  what,  indeed,  he  all  along 
takes  for  granted.  Crod  giveih  it  a  body  as  it  hath 
pleased  him.  Furthermore,  the  very  doctrine  so  clearly 
taught,  the  resurrection,  necessarily  implies  that  they 
are  material  structures,  which  are  to  come  forth  and 
have  their  place  in  the  heavenly  economy.  If  not, 
why  must  the  spirit  thus  come  down,  and  knock  at 
the  very  grave  where  lie  the  mouldered  remains  of  the 
body  it  wore  ?  Why  disturb  that  sleeping  dust,  unless 
it  is  to  be  rebuilt ;  itself  material,  therefore  some  ma- 
terial structure  to  come  from  it  ? 

Furthermore,  that  it  is  so,  the  spiritual  a  material 
body,  is  evident  from  this,  that  it  is  to  be  like  unto 
Christ's  glorious  body.  What  this  was  is  declared  in  his 
words  during  that  last  interview  before  his  ascension : 
Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet.,  that  it  is  I  myself :  handle 
me  and  see ;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  hones  as  ye 
see  me  have.  And  with  the  same  body,  and  at  the  close 
of  the  same  interview,  he  went  up  into  heaven.  The 
eleven  apostles  all  saw  the  resurrection  body  of  Christ ; 
it  being  necessary  that  they  should  see  him  after  his 
rising  from  the  dead.  Paul,  too,  the  last  of  the  apos- 
tles, was  permitted  to  see  the  resurrection  body  of 


SPIRITUAL   BODY.  329 

Christ.  He  asks,  with  this  reference,  Have  I  not  seen 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord?  Have  not  I,  as  well  as  the  rest 
of  the  apostles,  seen  the  risen  Lord  ?  And  when  ? 
On  his  way  to  Damascus,  he  saw  the  resurrection 
body,  the  glorified  body ;  the  body  that  came  forth ; 
the  body  that  ascended  ;  which  he  could  not  have  seen, 
had  it  not  been  a  material,  while  it  was  a  glorified  body. 
The  idea  of  a  spiritual  body,  then,  does  not  preclude  the 
presence  and  partnership  of  a  material  element,  but 
embraces  it.  The  question  comes  back,  Why  is  it  called 
a  spiritual  body  f  I  answer,  for  the  same  reason  that 
the  present  is  called  a  natural  body  :  this  is  a  natural 
body,  because  it  is  fitted  to  be  an  abode  and  an  instru- 
ment of  this  animal  life,  being  earthly  and  sensuous,  like 
this  life.  The  other  is  called  a  spiritual  body,  because 
it  is  such,  in  its  material  and  form,  as  perfectly  fits  it 
to  serve  the  spirit  in  its  higher,  nobler,  imperishable 
existence ;  spiritual,  because  a  body  that  shall  be  no 
burden,  require  no  care,  no  replenishment ;  spiritual, 
as  being  the  spirit's  quickener,  developing,  elevating, 
helping,  the  spirit  in  all  its  vast  operations. 

We  come  now  into  the  region  of  amazing  contrasts. 
The  great  facts  about  the  heavenly  body  we  get  by 
contrast.  Thus  the  apostle  states  the  matter  in  the 
text,  It  is  sown  in  corruption ;  it  is  raised  in  incorrup- 
tion.  It  is  soivn  in  dishonor  ;  it  is  raised  in  glory  :  it  is 
soivn  in  weakness  ;  it  is  raised  in  power.  The  first  attri- 
bute is  imperishability.  Though  matter,  though  a 
body,  it  shall  flourish  coeval  with  the  inhabiting  spirit. 
We  see  deposited  in  the  ground  a  gross,  unseemly, 
dissolving  structure.  It  comes  forth  incorruptible  ;  no 
weapon  can  smite  it ;  no  pain  can  enter  it ;  no  form 
of  death  can  reach  it  more.     We  have  here  matter 


330  SPIRITUAL   BODY. 

endowed,  as  it  were,  and  pervaded  with  all  the  salient 
and  springing  energies  of  life  ;  defying  the  action 
of  time,  and  all  other  powers  but  the  fiat  of  the 
Almighty.  God  could  bring  it  down,  and  bring  it  to 
an  end.  But  God's  word  of  promise  is,  that  it  shall 
stand  as  it  rose,  incorruptible  ;  onward,  onward,  a 
mortal  that  hatli  put  07i  immortality. 

Another  quality  of  the  reconstructed  body  is  honor ; 
not  mean,  depressed,  but  possessing  all  noble  and  at- 
tractive qualities.  As  Paul  has  it,  It  is  raised  in 
glory.  As  committed  to  its  final  bed,  it  is  ghastly,  de- 
formed, repulsive.  It  comes  up  a  creation  of  beauty 
and  splendor,  like  unto  Christ's  glorious  body.  Here, 
in  this  phrase,  we  have  something  specific  and  palpable, 
something  to  steady  our  traversings  on  this  gorgeous 
sea  of  mystery.  It  may  be  like  unto  Christ  trans- 
figured on  the  Mount,  when  his  face  shot  radiance, 
and  his  garments  glistened,  and  the  whole  person  put 
on  the  image  and  the  overpowering  brightness  of  the 
heavenly ;  or  like  Christ  as  he  appeared  in  the  reve-' 
lation,  when  his  countenance  was  as  the  sun  shineth  in 
his  strength,  and  his  entire  form  glowed  so  intensely 
that  the  amazed  disciple /e??  at  his  feet  as  dead.  What 
a  glory  must  that  have  been  to  prostrate,  and  stiffen 
in  the  semblance  of  death,  the  beholder.  It  was 
the  glory  of  Jesus'  body.  And  when  his  followers 
shall  be  like  him,  then  what  a  glory  shall  encompass 
them. 

Another  attribute  of  the  recovered  body  is  power. 
Not  as  it  enters  the  grave ;  then  we  see  it  to  be  ab- 
solutely helpless,  every  faculty  perished,  senseless  as 
the  clod  thrown  on  to  cover  it.  Power  it  shall  have 
when  it  comes  forth.     Great  power  there  may  be  of 


SPIRITUAL   BODY.  831 

achievement,  of  producing  physical  effects.  Angels 
are  represented  as  having  this  power ;  power  to  re- 
move obstacles,  to  inflict  judgments,  to  execute  the 
most  difficult  decrees,  the  most  terrible  behests.  Fet- 
ters of  iron  are  as  tow  in  their  grasp,  and  armed 
myriads  as  children's  playthings  before  them.  One 
hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  of  the  enemies  of 
Israel  fell  before  one  in  a  single  night.  Well  may 
they  be  called  mighty  angels,  mighty  and  excelling  in 
strength ;  but  not  surpassing  the  Cliristian  in  his 
glorified  body.  For  inspiration  writes  on  such,  equal 
unto  the  angels;  and  why  not  in  this  power  to 
achieve  ? 

Furthermore,  it  will  be  a  power  to  bear  as  well  as 
to  do.  What !  Burdens  in  that  world  do  you  mean  ? 
Yes,  this  burden,  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory.  As  we  are  now  constituted,  it  would  consume 
us  in  a  moment.  When  Paul  was  caught  up  into  the 
third  heaven,  whether  he  was  in  tlie  body  or  out  of  the 
body  he  could  not  tell.  We  have  accounts  of  some 
Christians,  in  peculiar  apocalyptic  moments,  when 
God  has  been  too  lavish  in  the  manifestations  of  his 
glory,  and  too  intense  a  brightness  has  met  their 
vision,  in  whom  all  the  wheels  of  life  stopped,  and 
they  sunk  down  at  once,  inanimate.  If  they  could 
not  bear  even  that,  what  would  be  the  case  if  brought 
right  into  the  centre  and  depth  of  the  blazing  glories 
of  an  unveiled  eternity  ?  One  text  of  Scripture  would 
very  soon  receive  its  commentary,  that  flesh  and  hlood 
cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  Crod.  Something  more 
refined,  more  instinct  with  vitality,  is  wanted  and  is 
furnished  in  that  body  that  shall  be  raised  in  power ; 
a  power  to  meet  the  visions  and  the  glories  of  that 


332  SPIKITUAL  BODY. 

place ;  a  power  to  bathe  in  those  floods  of  light,  and 
be  refreshed  and  made  still  stronger  by  what  would 
otherwise  blast  and  consume  it.  In  short,  it  will  be  a 
power  adequate  to  endure  heaven. 

But  we  reach  the  climax  of  our  text  and  our  sub- 
ject, in  that  attribute,  spiritual,  raised  a  spiritual  body. 
This,  indeed,  embraces  all  the  rest.  It  has  the  quali- 
ties of  incorruption,  immortality,  glory,  power,  because 
a  spiritual  body.  We  began  with  this  in  our  dis- 
cussion. We  end  with  it.  It  is  raised  a  spiritual  body. 
Let  me  take  this  attribute,  spiritual,  and  go  forth 
into  the  field  of  its  capabilities.  A  spiritual  body,  — 
therefore  no  weariness,  no  flagging  in  service,  in  en- 
joyment, day  nor  night ;  but  there  is  no  night  there, 
because  no  needed  repose.  A  spiritual  body,  —  there- 
fore endowed  with  amazing  activity  and  power  of 
motion  and  communication.  This  is  probable.  It  is 
what  we  know  in  the  case  of  the  angels,  great  power 
of  motion,  darting  with  the  rapidity  of  light,  space 
presenting  no  barrier ;  passing  from  world  to  world 
almost  with  the  quickness  of  thought,  so  ethereal  are 
they.  We  fall  back  upon  the  inspired  and  inspiring 
comparison,  the  glorified  at  the  resurrection  are  to  be 
equal  unto  the  angels.  And  what  a  power  this  will 
be.  What  capabilities  herein  to  serve  God.  What 
ministries  of  benevolence,  and  how  swiftly  they  will 
be  done,  when  the  stride  and  leap  shall  be  from  world 
to  world,  as  we  go  now  from  house  to  house.  Then 
the  circle  of  fellowship,  how  it  will  stretch  itself 
inimitably  round ;  the  acquaintance  and  sympathies 
and  intermingled  transports,  how  they  will  be  diffused 
through  all  space  where  dwells  a  single  pure  and  loyal 
subject.     What  opportunities  not  only  to  serve,  but  to 


SPIRITUAL   BODY.  333 

search  out,  God,  to  behold  and  study  him  in  the  works 
of  his  hands,  the  powers  in  question  constituting  a 
species  of  ubiquity,  made  capable  of  reaching  in  a 
moment  the  point  where  the  Almighty  may  be  reveal- 
ing himself  in  any  new  work  or  wonder,  there  to  see 
and  adore ;  the  universe  thrown  open ;  an  eternity  to 
explore  its  immensity,  ever  studying  and  drinking  in 
knowledge  with  each  eager  sense.  And  though  acqui- 
sition comes  almost  with  the  ease  and  fulness  of  in- 
tuition, it  is  kept ;  all  the  garnered  treasures  are 
retained,  while  others  are  ever  added,  and  still  new 
♦accumulations  piled  on  upon  the  old.  Then  this 
knowledge,  all  baptized  by  the  spirit  of  holiness,  is  used 
to  feed  the  flame  of  love  to  God,  the  spirit  ever  loving, 
and  the  body  ever  aiding  in  the  spirit's  utmost  ardor 
and  outpouring  perpetuity  of  love.  In  this  way,  the 
body  as  it  will  be,  ministers  to  the  spirit's  largest 
growth  of  blessedness,  takes  in  God,  is  filled  with 
all  his  fulness.  Every  chord  of  feeling,  every  fibre 
and  nerve,  shall  vibrate  with  ecstasy,  and  pour  forth 
an  exuberant  gladness.  Who  can  tell  what  a  body 
can  do  for  the  inhabiting  spirit  ?  We  know  some- 
thing of  what  it  has  done  in  its  mysterious,  mournful 
connection  in  this  world.  The  soul  has  drooped  and 
sunk  with  a  load  it  could  not  bear ;  and  such  a 
case  only  shows  the  vital  power  of  the  connection. 
Transfer  your  thoughts  forward  to  that  bright  scene 
and  that  wondrous  union  ;  a  perfect  spirit  dwelling  in 
a  spiritual  and  glorified  body.  Then  there  will  be  a 
capacity  for  joy,  and  an  experience,  too,  such  as  a 
spirit  alone,  a  soul  disembodied,  can  never  approach 
to.  Doubtless  the  spiritual  body  will  vastly  augment 
the  spirit's  blessedness  through  the  cycles  of  its  eternal 
progression. 


334  SPIRITUAL   BODY. 

Let  me  remind  all  who  hear  me,  that  this  is  the 
work  and  gift  of  God ;  a  gift  bestowed  on  a  distinctly 
specified  condition.  I  give  it  in  the  words  of  Christ, 
This  is  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  that  every  one  that 
seeeth  the  Son  and  helieveth  on  him  may  have  everlasting 
life  ;  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day.  This  the 
character,  the  believer  in  Jesus,  the  Clu'istian  in  heart 
and  life,  he  shall  attain  unto  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead;  he  be  clothed  with  this  garment  of  brightness, 
this  resplendent,  spiritual  body.  There  is,  then,  a 
preparation  needed,  a  meetness  of  character  for  it ; 
and  you  have  a  responsibility  in  tlie  premises.  Men 
are  not  saved  in  the  gospel  system  by  the  working  of 
a  fatality,  nor  by  the  turning  of  a  wheel ;  not  saved 
by  a  mechanical  process,  dug  up  and  saved ;  not 
saved  by  chemical  process,  striving  to  bring  purity  out 
of  puti'efaction  ;  but  saved  by  faith,  a  faitli  working  by 
love,  and  the  faith  and  love  working  out  the  obedi- 
ence ;  saved  by  two  resurrections ;  the  first,  a  resur- 
rection to  newness  of  life ;  then,  consequent  upon 
this,  that  final  resurrection  to  a'  glorified  and  an  end- 
less life. 

Another  point  is,  that  this  matter  of  being  saved  is 
a  great  matter ;  saved  from  sin,  from  death,  from 
hell ;  brought  out  from  that  penury  and  infamy  and 
woe,  and  brought  into  the  possession  of  astonishing 
powers,  privileges,  and  prospects ;  brought  up  a  per- 
fected spirit ;  endowed  with  a  spiritual  body  ;  stamped 
with  God's  pledge  and  seal  of  immortality ;  em- 
powered to  range  the  universe,  to  gather  knowledge 
and  wealth  from  all  the  works  and  worlds  of  the  Infi- 
nite One.  I  point  you  to  that  product  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, and  ask,  Have  you  thought  seriously  you  could 

21 


SPIRITUAL   BODY.  335 

be  that  ?  And  if  you  can  be  that,  what  else  do  you 
wish  to  be  or  to  have  ?  Is  there  any  thing  else  in  the 
comparison  worth  being  or  having  ?  The  height  and 
wealth  of  that  attainment,  the  resurrection,  the  spirit- 
ual body,  is  sufficient  to  dim  and  dwarf  all  these  gay 
and  painted  things  the  world  is  so  mad  after ;  all 
little,  low,  mean,  before  this  supernal  splendor.  If 
you  succeed  in  getting  them,  what  have  you  got  ? 
What,  as  your  inventory  is  read  on  that  day  of  death's 
wasting  work,  and  on  that  other  day  when  death  is 
spoiled,  that  glorious  day  of  rebuilt  forms  and  for- 
tunes ?  These  are  great  things,  astounding  to  thought 
and  staggering  to  faith  but  for  this  we  get  hold  of, 
and  hold  on  upon,  —  the  Promiser  and  the  Performer 
is  God.  There  put  down  your  anchor  and  make  fast, 
and  look  up,  and  expect  that  all  these  amazing  things 
will  be  done,  and  these  transcendent  capabilities  be 
realized  in  your  case,  if  you  are  a  Christian. 

Let  me  say,  further,  that  not  only  have  you  a  vast 
deal  to  expect,  you  have  nothing  to  fear.  With  this 
hope  authentic  in  your  breast,  death  shall  come  and 
bring  no  terror,  his  brandished  dart  shall  not  move 
the  slightest  fibre  of  your  frame.  And  what  is  strange, 
the  shuddering  and  recoiling  you  feel  in  the  distant 
remove  and  dim  prospect  of  this  hour  shall  all  depart 
when  you  come  to  the  close  and  fatal  grapple ;  and 
while  you  bend  and  fall  beneath  that  inevitable  stroke, 
your  very  fall  will  be  a  triumph,  and  the  shout  go  up, 
0  Death,  tvhere  is  thy  sting?  0  Grrave,  where  is  thy 
victory  ? 

Inasmuch  as  Christianity  thus  honors  the  body,  and 
opens  to  this  mortal  the  prospect  of  immortality,  it 
follows  that  men  have  a  vast  interest  and  duty  here. 


336  SPIRITUAL   BODY. 

And  we  say  in  the  enforcement  of  it,  Take  care  of 
your  bodies ;  and  do  this  by  providing  for  their  im- 
mortal destination.  They  must  come  forth  from  the 
grave.  Believe  with  a  faith,  and  hope  with  an  expec- 
tation, and  live  with  a  discipline,  a  purity,  and  an 
obedience  which  promise  to  them  a  rising  to  life  and 
glory.  Pamper  them  not.  Debase  them  not.  Oh,  pre- 
pare them  not  for  that  other  resurrection  to  shame  and 
everlasting  contempt.  We  point  you  to  the  good,  the 
glory,  the  immortality,  and  ask  you  to  make  that  your 
end,  your  aspiration.  If  there  be  any  thing  manly 
and  responsive  in  your  soul,  then  reach  upward  and 
seize  it.  Take  it.  Don't  miss  it.  Make  not  your  final 
bed  with  the  damned. 


XXIX. 

ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT. 

To  me  helongeth  vengeance,  and  recompense.  —  Deut.  xxxii.  35. 
These  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  hut  the 
righteous  into  life  eternal.  —  Matt.  xxv.  46. 

ipERHAPS  there  is  no  subject,  that  can  be  presented 
-*-  from  the  pulpit,  which  is  received  with  so  little 
favor  by  many  as  the  one  which  relates  to  the  condi- 
tion, the  punishment,  of  the  wicked  after  the  judg- 
ment. It  seems  as  though  this  class  of  people  thought 
the  whole  matter  turned  on  this,  —  namely,  whether  we 
who  preach  make  out  a  case  in  favor  of  the  punish- 
ment of  the  wicked  hereafter,  —  that  the  fact  would  be 
very  much  according  to  the  state  of  the  argument  in 
this  world  or  according  to  the  prevailing  sentiment ; 
and  God  would  adjust  his  severity,  or  his  clemency, 
very  much  to  the  judgments  and  expectations  of  his 
creatures.  Hence,  every  person  taking  a  position  ad- 
verse to  any  punishment  is  himself  a  voice,  a  vote,  an 
influence,  against  the  infliction  of  such  punishment. 
Hence,  again,  the  preacher  whose  argument  goes  in 
favor  of  the  punishment  of  wicked  men  is  supposed  to 
be  thereby  using  an  influence  which  shall  increase  the 
probability  of  such  punishment.  If  not,  why  are  any 
displeased  ?     The  true  state  of  the  case  is  this :   the 

22 


338  ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT. 

preacher's  words  and  the  people's  believing  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  God's  recompense  as  a  fact,  a  reality. 
It  is  a  reality,  or  it  is  not.  If  it  is  a  reality,  nothing 
is  so  important  as  that  we  know  it,  and  act  in  view  of 
it.  If  it  is  a  reality,  no  man  does  a  more  friendly 
part  to  you  than  lie  who  by  any  means  convinces 
you  of  it ;  for  if  you  believe  it  to  be  a  fact,  you  will 
be  far  more  likely  to  avoid  it.  Come  with  me,  then, 
and  let  us  dispassionately  inquire  after  the  truth  on 
this  subject.  What  is  the  reality,  the  actuality,  which 
lies  before  us ;  what  will  our  state  be  after  the  judg- 
ment, if  impenitent  and  wicked  ? 

1.  I  lay  down  this,  first,  that  law  is  an  expressed 
or  implied  injvmction  to  do  or  not  to  do  certain  acts, 
with  the  alternative  of  penalty,  suffering  in  some  form, 
if  we  disobey.  It  is  essential  to  all  law  that  there  be 
penalty,  and  necessary  to  the  sustaining  of  any  law 
that  its  penalty  be  inflicted  where  there  is  transgres- 
sion ;  that  is,  that  the  "  law  be  executed." 

2.  In  the  second  place,  I  lay  down  this,  which  I 
think  no  one  will  dispute,  that  God  is  a  God  of  law. 
Law  runs  through  all  the  works  of  his  hands.  Physi- 
cal law  pervades  the  whole  material  universe.  As  a 
creature  of  flesh  and  blood,  if  I  do  thus  or  so,  trans- 
gressing a  law,  the  punishment  is  out  upon  me.  If  I 
put  my  hand  in  the  fire,  pain  runs  through  me  for  that 
act.  If  I  open  a  great  artery,  the  blood  streams  forth 
and  death  ensues.  If  I  abuse  these  organs  by  intem- 
perance, they  bring  down  on  my  head  the  execution  and 
mortal  curse  of  the  suicide.  So  much  for  the  laws 
which  have  relation  to  the  body. 

There  are  also  psychological  laws,  —  laws  relating 
to  the  soul ;   and  these  also  are  inherent,  executing 


ETERNAL  PUNISHMENT.  339 

themselves.  For  instance,  I  commit  a  sin,  violate  a 
moral  obligation,  and  I  suffer  for  it,  as  a  mere  natural 
sequence.  Tliere  is  tliis  natural  suffering  for  sin : 
all  sin  brings  sooner  or  later,  of  itself,  suffering  upon 
the  soul  that  commits  it.  This  is  not  God's  penalty 
as  moral  governor,  but  the  penalty  of  transgressing 
the  great  psychological  law,  from  which  we  cannot 
escape.  Thus  far  we  find  that  he  is  a  God  of  law  in 
his  world  of  matter  and  mind ;  law,  penalty,  are  in 
both. 

I  come,  next,  to  look  at  ourselves,  our  personalities, 
as  he  has  made  us ;  and  ask.  Do  we  find  here  any  ad- 
justment to  a  law  which  is  exterior  to  ourselves  ?  I 
answer,  Yes.  We  are  made  with  two  great  departments 
in  our  being,  hopes,  fears ;  two  mighty  motives  in 
ourselves,  exactly  answering  to  the  two  great  mo- 
tives without  ourselves,  reward  and  punishment.  And 
as  these  latter  are  nothing,  unless  there  be  within  us 
hopes  and  fears,  so  these  inner  motives  or  affections 
are  aimless,  unless  there  be  the  outer,  the  rewards,  the 
punishments.  But  all  persons  are  agreed  on  the  side 
of  reward ;  all  believe  in  this,  the  bestowing  of  good. 
With  what  consistency,  I  pray  you,  if  you  reject  the 
other,  the  threat  of  evil  ?  Thus  far  we  find  an  outer 
world,  framed  l)y  the  supreme  Creator  with  incorpo- 
rate laws,  enforced  by  penalties  no  transgressor  can 
escape ;  and  man  created  with  a  nature  exactly  an- 
swering to  the  rewards  and  punishments  of  law. 

Let  us  now  pass  on  another  step,  and  look  at  this 
creature,  man,  in  the  social  condition  and  relations. 
We  will  enter  the  smallest  realm,  the  family.  Here 
we  find  a  law-giver,  the  parent ;  rules  for  the  children, 
—  rewards  if  obedient,  punishments  if  they  transgress. 


840  ETERNAL    PUNISHMENT. 

It  is  a  necessity  that  it  be  so,  founded  in  the  system 
of  the  almighty  Creator,  in  the  very  natures  he  has 
given  us.  Pass  from  the  family  to  the  state.  Here, 
also,  law  with  its  orderly  precepts  ;  punishment,  where 
law  is  transgressed. 

The  world  has  found,  again  and  again,  that  there  is 
no  possible  getting-on  without  the  regulations  and  the 
retributions  of  law.  This  is  an  unquestioned  fact, 
patent  to  all  of  humankind.  To  advance  another 
step,  —  we  of  these  natures,  made  with  these  liopes  and 
fears,  and  to  whom  this  regimen  of  law,  precept,  pun- 
ishment, is  necessary  in  these  social  and  civil  relations, 
enter  in  as  parts,  subjects,  into  another  and  far  broader 
kingdom,  of  which  God  is  the  head,  the  ruler,  the 
ultimate  and  absolute  authority.  This  is  what  all 
will  admit.  And  all  admit,  also,  that  here  God  has 
issued  laws  ;  rather  the  great  moral  law.  Thou  shalt  love 
the  Lord  thy  Cfod  with  all  thy  strength,  and  thy  neighbor 
as  thyself.  We  know  this  law  is  laid  upon  us  for  our 
obedience ;  and  we  presume,  that,  like  the  other  laws 
of  God,  it  had  its  penalty,  its  own  distinctive  penalty. 
If  so,  we  shall  find  it  expressly  declared.  We  go  now 
to  God's  Word,  the  Divine  Statute  Book,  in  order  to 
learn  what  he  says  about  it.  Let  me  recapitulate  what 
we  witness  as  we  come  along  to  consult  this  ultimate 
authority.  We  witness,  first,  in  the  working  of 
the  physical  and  psycliological  laws,  that  both  are 
armed  with  their  penalties.  We  come  to  the  human 
statute  book,  and  read  there,  that  whoever  violates 
tliis  law  or  that,  shall  suffer  this  or  that  punishment. 
Penalty,  punishment  of  some  sort,  runs  throughout ; 
now  imprisonment,  now  death.  The  law-makers, 
and  the  law  interpreters,  and  all  other  men  agree  that 


ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT.  341 

it  is  SO ;  that  this  language  about  punishment  means 
punishment.  And  most  will  admit,  also,  the  necessity, 
that  the  world,  no  realm  or  community  of  it,  can  go 
on,  and  keep  together,  without  penalty  ;  because  men 
are  made  to  be  governed,  controlled,  swayed  by  law, 
by  reward,  by  punishment.  We  pass  on  another  step  ; 
leaving  man's,  we  come  into  God's  realm,  where  he 
governs  on  the  throne  supreme ;  and  what  find  we 
here,  as  we  read  down  the  history  given  in  his  Word  ? 
We  find  that  every  law  there  has  its  penalty.  The 
law  of  Paradise  had ;  and  it  was  executed  on  the  very 
day  they  ate  and  transgressed.  And  the  same  holds 
in  the  law  given  in  the  wilderness,  penalty  if  they 
transgressed ;  which  they  did,  and  their  bones  were 
left  to  bleach  on  the  plains  they  traversed.  It  was  so 
in  the  ceremonial  law  :  penalty,  punishment,  according 
to  the  offence ;  and  there  was  no  escape  but  through 
the  blood  of  sprinkling.  We  pass  now  from  such  prin- 
ciples, facts,  and  scenes  to  the  great  law,  eternal,  su- 
preme over  all,  which  God  gives  out  as  the  ruler  of  the 
universe,  the  moral  law,  imposed  upon  moral  beings,  in 
all  worlds.  And  we  find  the  same  thing,  penalty,  the 
threat  of  evil  to  the  soul  that  transgresses.  It  is  writ- 
ten here,  The  soul  that  sirmeth,  it  shall  die.  This  the 
great  comprehensive  principle  and  statement ;  after- 
wards, especially  in  the  New  Testament,  brought  out 
in  varying  forms  of  expression.  Let  me  adduce  a  few 
of  these.  The  impenitent,  the  wicked,  the  unholy, 
those  who  incur  this  punishment,  we  read,  shall  be 
cast  into  a  furnace  of  fire;  shall  be  destroyed,  both  soul 
and  body,  in  hell;  shall  lose  their  souls;  shall  not  see 
life,  but  the  wrath  of  Grod  abideth  on  them  ;  shall  be  pun- 
ished with  everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  of  the 


342  ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT. 

Lord,  and  from  the  glory  of  his  power.  The  smoJce  of 
their  tormetit,  it  is  written,  ascendeth  up  for  ever  and 
ever.  Then  said  Jesus  again  unto  them,  I  go  my  loay, 
and  ye  shall  seek  me,  and  shall  die  in  your  sins :  whither 
I  go,  ye  cannot  come.  And  they  shall  come  forth;  .  .  .  they 
that  have  done  evil,  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation. 
These  shall  go  aivay  into  everlasting  punishment.  These 
are  a  few  specimens  of  the  language  used  to  express 
the  punishment  of  the  wicked  in  the  future  state ;  and 
the  strongest,  the  most  unequivocal  of  these,  are  from 
the  lips  of  Christ  himself.  Mark  the  strength,  the  un- 
ambiguous nature  of  the  phraseology,  They  shall  not  see 
life,  hit  the  wrath  of  Grod  ahideth  on  them.  They  shall 
come  forth  unto  the  resurrection  of  condemnation.  They 
shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment.  And  how 
shall  we  interpret  ?  We  find  punishment,  the  neces- 
sity, the  threat  of  it,  the  fact  of  it,  everywhere  else. 
We  come  along,  and  read  these  words,  God's  declara- 
tion, that  the  wicked  shall  be  punished  from  the  judg- 
ment-seat on  without  end.  And  what  does  this 
language  mean  ?  Is  it  all  virtually  a  declaration  of 
reward  ?  The  fire,  the  worm,  the  torment,  the  gnash- 
ing of  teeth,  —  all  these  the  symbols  of  glory,  the 
expressions  of  transport  and  joy,  or  the  aids  thereto  ? 
Some  so  interpret.  I  must  dissent  from  such  an  inter- 
pretation, and  take  the  ground  that  punishment  here, 
as  everywhere  else,  means  punishment ;  and  that  ever- 
lasting, eternal,  when  applied  thereto,  mean  everlasting, 
eternal.  If  the  life,  the  glory,  is  eternal,  which  every 
one  admits,  then  the  punishment,  put  right  by  the  side, 
in  the  same  sentence,  means  eternal. punishment.  The 
argument  here  is  simply  this,  that  it  is  what  tlie  lan- 
guage means ;  that  we  are  so  to  take  it,  unless  there  is 


ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT.  343 

an  overwhelming  reason,  compelling  ns  to  reduce  or 
alter  its  meaning.  I  see  none ;  the  reason  is  on  the 
other  side,  compelling  us  to  interpret,  according  to  the 
received  significance,  the  same  word  assigning  an  eter- 
nal blessedness  to  the  righteous,  and  an  eternal  pun- 
ishment to  the  wicked. 

We  so  interpret,  because,  if  the  language  which  the 
Spirit  of  God  uses  on  the  subject  does  not  express  the 
idea  of  punishment,  eternal,  literally  without  end, 
then  no  language  can  express  it.  If  God  has  not  de- 
clared it,  it  never  has  been  and  it  never  can  be  declared. 
For  language,  in  God's  employment  of  it,  has  been  put 
to  its  utmost  tension,  its  last  capacity  of  expression,  on 
this  very  subject.  No  believer  of  the  doctrine,  no 
preacher  of  it,  on  this  theory  of  language,  has  ever 
yet  succeeded  in  expressing  the  idea  of  the  endless 
punishment  of  the  wicked.  If  God  has  failed,  certainly 
man  has  and  must.  And  we  add  this,  that  the  dis- 
believers, the  rejecters  of  the  doctrine,  who  have  gone 
away  displeased  from  before  the  evangelical  pulpit,  have 
spent  their  wrath  for  nothing.  And  if  there  is  one  here 
to-day,  I  say  to  him,  Friend,  what  is  the  matter? 
What  the  ground  of  your  displeasure  and  dissent? 
What  have  I  said  ?  —  Said  !  you  have  been  preaching 
the  horrible  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment.  —  Pray, 
tell  me  where  and  when.  You  cannot  put  your  finger 
on  the  justly  offensive  sentence.  According  to  your 
theory  and  understanding  of  language,  I  have  preached 
no  sucli  thing  as  the  endless  punishment  of  the  wicked. 
According  to  your  rule  of  interpreting,  this  very  ser- 
mon is  redolent  with  the  happiness  of  all  men  after 
death ;  and  every  person  of  that  way  of  thinking  ought 
to  be  satisfied  with  it.    The  fact  that  he  is  not  satisfied 


344  ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT. 

is  proof  that  he  is  no  believer,  after  all,  in  his  own  rule 
of  interpretation ;  but  admits,  knows,  as  everybody 
else  does,  that  punishment  means  punishment ;  and 
that  the  Bible,  the  New  Testament,  fairly  interpreted, 
does  teach  the  endless  punishment  of  the  wicked,  the 
unbelieving,  in  the  future  state.  I  am  of  opinion  that 
this  is  the  honest,  secret  belief  of  nearly  all  discerning 
rejecters  of  eternal  punishment,  that  the  New  Testa- 
ment does  teach  it ;  and  it  is  the  honestly  avowed  be- 
lief of  some  who  stand  high  in  that  connection  and 
speak  with  some  authority.  One,  a  metropolitan  advo- 
cate, has  lately  put  forth  this  utterance ;  "  And  yet  I 
freely  say,  that  I  do  not  find  the  doctrine  of  the  ulti- 
mate salvation  of  all  souls  clearly  stated  in  any  text  or 
in  any  discourse  that  has  ever  been  reported  from  the 
lips  of  Christ."  Theodore  Parker  also  says,  "  To  me 
it  is  quite  clear  that  Jesus  taught  the  doctrine  of  eter- 
nal damnation,  if  the  evangelists  are  to  be  treated  as 
inspired."  Mr.  Parker  says  that  the  doctrine  is  clearly 
in  the  New  Testament :  he  avoids  it  by  rejecting  the 
inspiration  and  authority  of  the  New  Testament.  And 
his  case  is  not  a  singular  one.  So  far  as  my  own 
experience  has  gone,  in  my  personal  acquaintance  with 
individuals  of  this  way  of  thinking,  the  result  is,  that 
those  who  reject  the  fact  of  future  endless  punishment 
also  reject  the  Bible  as  a  book  coming  to  them  with  the 
authority  of  a  divine  inspiration.  The  reason  being, 
they  find  the  doctrine  in  the  book,  and,  to  avoid  the 
doctrine,  they  set  aside  the  authority  of  the  book.  I 
take,  then,  this  position,  —  and  it  is  one,  I  trust,  that 
will  have  weight  with  most  before  me,  —  that  the 
inspired  Word  asserts  it ;  by  any  fair  interpretation, 
God's  Word  teaches  the  perdition  of  ungodly  men.     I 


ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT.  345 

receive  the  truth,  and  am  moved  to  fear,  and  to  strive 
to  avoid  the  doom,  and  attain  to  that  life. 

Not  only  all  Scripture,  but  all  analogy  teaches  it. 
We  may  reject  Scripture  ;  there  is  a  vast  deal  beside, 
that  will  preach  to  us  the  truth  we  want  not  to  hear. 
The  executions  of  nature,  the  executions  of  society,  the 
executions  of  conscience,  will  preach  it  to  us.  The 
very  existence  of  evil  and  misery  in  the  universe  sug- 
gests it  to  us.  What  unmeasured  quantities  of  these, 
and  yet  God  is  only  good.  Men  talk  about  the  divine 
goodness  as  being  against  the  endless  suffering  of  the 
wicked.  If  the  argument  is  valid  against  that  measure 
of  suffering,  it  is  valid  against  any  suffering,  any  pun- 
ishment. "  The  main  difficulty,"  says  a  great  thinker, 
and  his  thought  we  must  all  assent  to  at  once,  "  is  not 
the  amount  of  evil  that  exists,  but  the  existence  of  any 
at  all.  Any,  even  the  smallest,  portion  of  evil,  suffer- 
ing, is  quite  unaccountable,  supposing  that  the  same 
amount  of  good  could  be  attained  without  that  evil ; 
and  why  it  is  not  attainable  is  more  than  we  are  able 
to  explain.  And  if  there  be  some  reason,  which  we 
cannot  understand,  why  a  small  amount  of  evil  is  un- 
avoidable, there  may  be,  for  aught  we  know,  the  same 
reason  for  a  greater  amount.  I  will  undertake  to 
explain  to  any  one  the  final  condemnation  of  the 
wicked,  if  he  will  explain  to  me  the  existence  of  the 
wicked  at  all." 

It  is  obvious  to  add,  that  it  is  prudent,  it  is  wise,  in 
any  one  to  believe  that  a  fearful  retribution  awaits  the 
evil-doer  in  eternity ;  wise  to  believe  this,  because  of 
the  vast  amount  and  weight  of  evidence  to  the  point ; 
evidence  enough  to  prove  it,  if  it  is  provable  ;  all  na- 
ture, all  law,  all  revelation,  uttering  the  doctrine,  so 


346  ETERNAL   PUNISHMENT. 

that  it  is  an  amazing  stretch  and  energy  of  unbelief 
not  to  believe  it,  implying  a  moral  state  and  position 
that  will  not  receive  it  on  any  testimony,  however 
clearly,  unqiialifiedly,  even  to  the  exhaustion  of  the 
capabilities  of  language,  God  himself  may  declare  and 
affirm  it.  It  is  wise  to  believe  it,  because,  believed,  it 
will  act  as  a  motive  upon  you,  moving  you  to  do  some- 
thing that  you  may  be  delivered  from  it ;  not  believed, 
you  will  be  likely  to  do  nothing,  to  take  it  easy,  and 
trust  to  this  opinion  to  save  you.  If  it  should  turn 
out  to  be  otherwise,  if  God  was  serious  in  what  he  said, 
and  will  punish  the  wicked  in  eternity,  then  your  case 
will  be  a  hard  one.  Mark  now  the  consequence  in  any 
case.  If  the  doctrine  of  punishment  is  not  true,  and 
you  are  one  who  regards  it  as  true,  and  repent,  reform, 
and  live  accordingly,  you  will  certainly  be  as  well  off 
as  your  neighbor  who  took  the  other  course.  The  only 
loss,  in  your  case,  is  the  inconvenience  you  may  have 
subjected  yourself  to  in  the  disciplines  and  sacrifices 
of  faith  and  holy  living,  when  you  might  have  had  all 
the  gratifications  and  profits  of  an  impure  and  fraudu- 
lent life,  and  still  have  come  out  safely  in  eternity. 
For  though  your  doctrine  is  not  the  true  one,  though 
the  lower  and  liberal  scheme  turns  out  the  true  one, 
you  fall  from  the  first  and  that  catches  you.  But 
if  you  try  the  latter,  and  it  proves  to  be  not  of  God, 
then  you  are  lost. 

The  storm,  the  storm,  it  is  coming,  it  is  near ;  flee, 
oh,  flee,  to  the  strongholds,  ye  prisoners  of  hope. 


XXX. 

HEAVEN. 

And  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth :  for  the  jirst 
heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away  ;  and  there  was 
no  more  sea.  And  I  John  saw  the  Holy  Oity,  New  Jeru- 
salem, coming  down  from  God  out  of  heaven,  prepared  as 
a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband.  And  I  heard  a  great  voice 
out  of  heaven,  saying,  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is 
with  men,  and  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and  they  shall  be  his 
people,  and  God  himself  shall  be  with  them,  and  be  their 
God.  —  Rev.  xxi.  1-3. 

TN  these  words,  the  apostle  is  supposed  to  refer  to 
heaven.  This  is  inferred  because  it  is  something 
desirable  described,  and  something  which  lies  beyond 
the  resurrection  and  the  judgment.  His  eye  was 
permitted,  was  empowered,  to  penetrate  beyond  the  day 
of  doom,  and  to  rest  upon  the  condition  of  the  right- 
ous  and  the  wicked  in  their  final  state.  Not  only  the 
place  in  which  this  vision  occurs,  but  the  phrase  in 
which  it  is  described,  leads  us  to  interpret  it  as  a  rep- 
resentation of  the  heavenly  state.  The  future  bles- 
sedness of  the  righteous  is,  perhaps,  more  commonly 
described  as  a  state.  Hence  the  question  is  raised.  Is 
it  any  thing  more  than  a  state  ? 

The  main  argument  for  regarding  heaven  as  only  a 
state  is,  that  only  state  can  make  heaven.   Place  alone 


348  HEAVEN. 

certainly  cannot  make  heaven.  This  is  admitted,  that 
state  —  that  is,  moral  character,  the  affections  —  is  es- 
sential to  constitute  heaven,  and  in  this  sense  heaven  is 
within  you.  In  this  sense,  only  state  can  make  heaven. 
Then  comes  the  conclusion,  heaven  is  only  a  state  ;  hut 
the  conclusion  is  far  from  being  legitimate.  When  it 
is  said  that  only  state  can  make  heaven,  the  meaning 
is,  that  a  right  moral  state  in  any  one  is  indispensable 
to  heavenly  enjoyment ;  there  can  be  no  such  enjoy- 
ment where  this  is  not.  It  does  not  follow,  that  the 
circumstance  of  place  will  not  heighten  the  enjoy- 
ment, make  heaven  more  heavenly.  This  certainly 
may  be  ;  this,  therefore,  is  true,  that,  wliile  place  can- 
not make  heaven,  in  spite  of  a  discordant  character 
it  can  brighten,  and  make  it  more  blessed,  where  the 
character  is  in  harmony.  In  other  words,  we  believe 
there  is  a  locality  called  heaven. 

We  all  conceive  of  heaven  thus,  it  being  impossi- 
ble, from  the  very  necessities  of  our  mental  constitu- 
tion, to  separate  the  idea  of  the  created  and  finite  from 
the  notion  of  locality.  Emphatically,  when  we  bring 
in  the  fact,  that  the  righteous  at  the  resurrection 
are  not  merely  spirit,  but  exist  with  bodies,  these 
necessarily  imply  or  require  place :  they  must  be 
somewhere ;  and  we  naturally  suppose  that  God  has 
provided  a  where.  This  thought  of  being  left  loose 
and  at  large,  wandering  through  immensity,  is  abhor- 
rent to  our  natures.  While  our  very  natures  ask  for 
some  locality,  abiding-place,  city,  as  our  home,  our 
Saviour's  words  most  decisively  point  to  such  an 
abode.  In  that  final  welcome  we  have  it,  loftily  ex- 
pressed, as  that  kingdom  prepared  for  you.  In  his 
prayer  for  those  who  should  believe  on  his  name,  he  asks, 


HEAVEN.  349 

Father,  I  will  that  they  also,  u'hom  thou  hast  given  one  he 
with  yne  where  Iain  ;  that  they  may  behold  my  glory,  ivhich 
thou  hast  given  me.  Be  with  me  where  I  am;  where 
Christ's  glory  is  peculiarly  manifested.  It  is  where 
he  went  with  his  glorified  humanity.  It  is  where  he 
went  to  jprefare  a  place  for  his  disciples.  Here  we 
have  it  in  language  which  perfectly  meets  the  case, 
and  comes  right  home  to  our  heart :  In  my  Father^ s 
house  are  many  mansions  :  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  ivill 
come  again,  and  receive  you  unto  myself ;  that  where  1 
am,  there  ye  may  he  also.  There  in  that  place, 
the  high  and  holy  place,  where  are  found  the  city, 
the  throne  of  the  infinite  God,  is  heaven ;  and  heaven 
is  a  place.  Thus  we  can  think  of  its  happiness 
—  we  love  so  to  do  —  as  in  part  the  result  of  place. 
We  find  a  description  thereof  furnished  by  an  in- 
spired pen,  in  which  are  employed  the  loftiest  images 
of  splendor  and  beauty  and  magnificence.  In  the 
structure  of  it,  the  most  costly  and  brilliant  things  are 
represented  as  profusely  inwrought ;  its  dimensions  are 
vast ;  its  foundations  garnished  with  all  manner  of 
precious  stones ;  its  walls  of  jasper  ;  its  dwellings  of 
pure  gold ;  its  gates  of  pearl ;  in  the  midst  of  it 
the  throne  of  Grod,  and  of  the  Lamh.  Out  of  the  throne 
flows  the  pure  river,  the  crystal  water  of  life,  and  on 
either  side  of  the  river  the  tree  of  life.  Allowing  all 
you  please  for  figure,  we  do  have  here  the  structure 
and  the  magnificence  of  place.  But  place,  we  have 
admitted,  is  not  the  essential  thing.  We  will  pass,  then, 
to  designate  a  few  other  things,  which  more  vitally 
help  in  the  conception  of  the  heavenly  blessedness, 
beginning  with  the  negative  view. 


350  HEAVEN. 

And  the  grand  negation  is,  that  there  is  no  sin  there. 
Nothing  that  dejileth,  neither  whatsoever  worketh  ahomina' 
tion  or  maJceth  a  lie.  If  you  enter  tliere,  you  enter  in  a 
state  of  perfect  and  confirmed  holiness,  all  that  can  taint 
or  disturb  you  left  behind.  This  consciousness  now 
of  an  eternal  parting  with  sin,  that  no  deforming  stain 
nor  darting  pang  can  ever  reach  you  more  ;  this  stand- 
ing up  in  heaven  erect,  and  emancipate,  finally,  from 
the  base  and  the  galling  chain  ;  this  consciousness  and 
deliverance  alone  is  enough  to  fill  the  soul's  whole 
capacity  with  the  most  vivid  and  joyous  emotions. 
Sin  away,  all  the  legion  evils  of  its  train  are  put 
away,  all  the  dishonors  of  it,  the  injury  and  offence 
to  God  away  ;  all  tears  wiped  from  the  eyes ;  no  more 
death,  no  sorrow,  naught  to  break  up  those  turbid 
fountains,  or  feed  those  flowing  streams.  The  smit- 
ing and  the  hewing  and  the  shaping  were  all  done  in 
this  world ;  the  living  stones  cut  and  made  ready  by 
the  sharp  discipline  of  afflictions  here,  so  that  they 
are  placed  in  the  eternal  building  without  noise  of 
hammer,  there  to  abide  and  shine  for  ever  in  im- 
perishable beauty. 

Again,  heaven  is  frequently  presented  to  us  under 
the  image  of  rest.  There  remai7ieth,  therefore^  a  rest  to 
the  people  of  Crod.  A  rest :  a  great  word  this  in  the 
compass  of  its  blessedness,  greater  than  we  now  can 
know.  Not  torpid,  indulgent  ease,  but  the  impossi- 
bility of  weariness,  the  absence  of  assailing  temptation, 
of  the  beating  storms  of  adversity,  of  the  sweeping 
blasts  of  passion ;  none  of  these,  but  the  calm,  the 
peace,  the  rest,  of  the  soul.  Rest,  refreshment,  renew- 
ing vigor  amidst  the  ceaseless  activities  of  service,  this 
will  be  in  that  world.      The  idea  of  activity,  service 


HEAVEN. 


351 


there,  is  as  strongly  set  forth  in  the  Bible  as  the 
idea  of  rest.  They  rest  not  day  and  night,  but 
serve  and  worship  God  continually.  And  yet  they 
rest  continually.  Tiiese  two  qualities,  rest  and  ser- 
vice, make,  as  one  alone  could  not,  heaven. 

Doubtless,  the  privilege  of  service,  the  opportunity 
of  doing  good,  of  kindly  office,  of  communicating 
happiness,  will  not  be  wanting  in  heaven.  Society, 
companionship,  then,  is  another  boon  and  privilege, 
we  discover,  as  we  look  through  the  gates  into  the  city. 
But  while  the  society  is  without  selfishness,  there  will 
unquestionably  be  distinctions,  gradations,  and  ranks 
in  the  heavenly  economy.  And  yet  no  ambition,  no 
envy ;  all  dwelling  in  harmony,  all  rejoicing  in  any 
honor  or  privilege  attained  by  others.  These  distinc- 
tions or  honors,  like  perfumes  worn  on  the  person, 
are  more  grateful  to  others  who  stand  near  than  to  the 
wearer  himself.  All  will  be  shedding  abroad  the  savor 
of  benignant  affections  wherever  they  go.  There  will 
be  also  the  intimacies  of  society,  the  recognition  of 
friends.  What  joy  to  recognize  friends  in  such  a  scene, 
and  clad  in  such  habiliments ;  to  come  together,  con- 
verse together,  live  together,  with  hearts  all  interfused 
in  the  glow  of  holy  love.  How  transporting  to  recog- 
nize, and  associate  with,  some  of  the  great  champions 
of  righteousness,  the  illustrious  names  of  the  past,  the 
reformers  and  achievers  of  other  days.  "  I  want  to  go 
to  heaven,"  said  one  of  the  greatest  and  best  of  New- 
England  preachers,  as  he  stood  in  extreme  old  age  on 
the  very  threshold,  eager  to  see  the  glory  of  God  as 
there  revealed,  to  see  the  honored  co-laborers  who  had 
gone  before  him.  Then  he  adds,  "  I  want  to  see  the 
old  prophets,  such  as  Moses,  Isaiah,  Elijah,  Daniel, 


352  HEAVEN. 

and  the  apostles ;  but  I  want  to  see  Paul  more  than 
any  man  I  can  think  of."  This  longing  to  see  the 
honored  and  the  good,  how  it  will  be  gratified,  if 
we  come  to  live  in  the  same  high  abode  with  them, 
where,  we  doubt  not,  all  obstructions  to  intercourse 
will  be  removed. 

Another  class  of  obstructions  will  doubtless  be 
stricken  away,  —  those  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
I  look  upon  this  as  among  the  bright  features  in  the 
heavenly  state,  —  the  opportunities  afforded  for  study, 
the  facilities  for  gaining  knowledge  ;  consequently  the 
large  possession  and  the  ever-swelling  stock  of  knowl- 
edge. We  do  not  suppose  that  this  acquisition  will 
come  without  effort.  We  may  reasonably  hope  it 
will  not  be  so  ;  for  such  an  arrangement  must  be  taking 
away  one  blessed  source  of  satisfaction,  one  salient 
spring  of  joy.  The  powers  there  possessed  will 
doubtless  be  admirable  for  this  service ;  the  mind 
exalted,  the  heart  made  pure,  the  body  glorified,  and 
all  adapted  to  the  work  ;  the  appetite  eager  and  sharp, 
and  the  greatest  subjects  pressing  on  the  attention. 
Every  inquisitive  mind  that  goes  from  this  world, 
where  he  saw  through  a  glass  darkly,  to  heaven,  has  a 
great  many  subjects  laid  by,  laid  over,  for  the  higher 
powers  and  the  better  opportunities  of  that  state ; 
and  we  may  suppose  they  will  there  be  the  first  on 
his  docket  of  inquiry.  These  hard-twisted  Gordian 
knots  he  here  could  do  nothing  at  all  with,  these  he 
will  untie,  if  untie  he  can,  even  there.  Whatever  has 
tried  him,  overtasked  him,  and  brought  him  to  a  stand 
in  this  world,  he  goes  there,  we  may  suppose,  with  a 
sort  of  passion  to  master  and  to  know ;  and  when 
those  higher  powers  and  clearer  lights  let  him   into 


HEAVEN.  353 

the  solution,  it  cannot  be  otherwise  than  that  his  soul 
will  feel  an  exultant  thrill  through  all  its  emotional 
capacities.  How  many  facts  about  Christ,  for  example, 
we  have  a  desire  to  know.  We  can  ask  the  questions, 
but  earth  is  no  place  for  the  answer.  How  many  deep 
things  pertaining  to  the  great  scheme  of  redemption ; 
how  many  wonderful  things  pertaining  to  the  works 
of  God  and  the  worlds  of  immensity,  the  laws  of  his 
physical  as  well  as  his  moral  universe,  now  beyond 
and  above  us,  will  abide  as  a  study  and  a  scrutiny  for 
that  other  scene,  and  that  higher  state.  And  can  we 
then  come  to  them  and  master  them,  and  fill  our  souls 
with  them,  without  a  heavenly  satisfaction  ;  especially 
when  we  consider  that  they  all  help  reveal  God,  the 
grandeur  of  his  being,  the  harmony  of  his  attributes, 
the  ineffable  glories  of  his  essence  ?  Can  we  study 
them,  and  be  enlarged  by  them  in  our  conceptions, 
without  also  being  enlarged  and  exalted  in  our  blessed- 
ness ? 

We  come  now  to  heaven  as  a  place  of  the  immediate 
manifestation  of  the  glory  of  the  Godhead.  It  is  no 
circular  knowledge  we  speak  of,  no  matter  of  remote 
inference,  but  direct  vision.  There  are,  in  the  Bible, 
some  remarkable  expressions  of  this  kind :  We  shall 
see  him  as  he  is  ;  shall  see  God  face  to  face.  The  face 
is  where  all  the  attributes  and  affections  concentre, 
and  beam  forth  as  from  an  unclouded  sun.  The  hack 
parts  of  this,  the  reflex  and  half-eclipsed  stroke  of  it, 
we  are  told,  turned  Moses  into  a  fountain  of  radiance, 
shining  so  intensely  that  his  countrymen  could  not 
steadfastly  behold.  What  a  glory  it  shall  be,  when, 
instead  of  the  retreating  hack  parts,  the  near  and  open 
face  shall  be  seen.     Can  you  bear  it  ?     Yes,  then  and 

23 


354  HEAVEN. 

there.  Can  you  imagine  the  effect  ?  It  will  be  to 
make  you  like  him.  You  cannot  compass  all  the  mean- 
ing of  those  two  words,  like  him,  —  bringing  you  into  a 
resemblance  and  a  vital  union,  pervading  you  and  flood- 
ing you  with  his  glory.  It  is  this  which  elevates  and 
refines  the  character,  and  which  will  make  you,  if  there, 
a  very  partaker,  putting  you  in  possession,  of  the  divine 
holiness ;  and,  what  is  more  wonderful  still,  putting 
you  in  possession,  making  you  a,  j^artaker  of  the  divine 
nature.  And  this  must  open  upon  yon  the  floodgates 
of  the  divine  blessedness.  The  glory  of  God  becomes 
your  glory ;  the  rest  of  God,  your  rest ;  the  joy  of  God, 
your  joy.  The  mandate  was,  the  stride  now  is,  to 
enter  into  the  joy  of  your  Lord ;  to  take  the  posses- 
sion ;  to  let  it  surround  and  fill  you.  And  how  full  it 
will  fill  you ;  and  how  strangely  it  will  ravish  you ; 
and  the  joy  shall  grow  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory  ; 
and  love  shall  wake  up  all  its  intensest  ardor,  and 
praise  call  into  service  all  her  sweetest  strains.  There 
will  be  in  heaven  worship,  doubtless,  in  its  gentlest 
song,  and  its  loudest  and  universal  acclaim ;  all  the 
involved  and  enrapturing  harmonies  of  music  ex- 
hausting the  powers  of  its  eloquent  expression  in  that 
work  of  praise,  when  the  redeemed  shall  cry.  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power  and  riches 
and  wisdom  and  strength  and  honor  and  glory  and 
blessing.  Then  the  siiblime  response,  the  thunder- 
ing chorus  from  innumerable  voices  shall  be  heard. 
Blessing  arid  honor  and  glory  and  paver  be  unto 
Him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for 
ever. 

I  might  here  consummate  and  crown  the  descrip- 
tion by  two  or  three  comprehensive  heads  of  thought. 


HEAVEN.  355 

One  is  the  thought  of  what  they  once  were,  poor,  vile, 
wretched,  doomed  ;  then  the  thought  of  what  they 
now  are  ;  and  then,  again,  the  thought,  so  far  as 
thought  can  reach,  what  they  are  to  be.  They  were 
once  sinners,  plunged  deep,  perhaps,  in  the  mire 
and  slough  of  sin,  helpless,  condemned,  miserable. 
Now  they  are  free  ;  the  denizens  and  inheritors  of 
the  universe ;  partakers  of  the  nature,  the  holiness, 
the  blessedness,  of  God.  What  a  contrast.  And 
who  has  done  it  for  them  ?  Who  brought  them 
there  ?  Their  Deliverer,  who  ?  He  is  right  before 
them,  in  his  glory,  —  that  Christ  their  souls  do 
admire  ;  his  love,  the  intensest  ecstasy  of  their  heart ; 
his  presence,  the  brightest  spot  of  their  heaven. 
Their  view  of  him,  their  song  to  him,  never  wearies, 
but  ever  freshens,  and  more  and  more  deeply  thrills 
on  every  repetition.  Their  character,  position,  pos- 
sessions, employments,  all  pure,  enriching,  enrap- 
turing, heavenly.  Then  the  prospect,  eternal  con- 
firmation in  the  amazing  inheritance  ;  the  prospect 
reaching  on  vaster  and  brighter  and  still  more  blessed, 
tlie  blessedness  of  the  possession  and  the  blessedness 
of  the  prospect  put  together  into  one.  Can  you,  in 
conception,  get  up  to  that  ?  And  have  you  seriously 
thought,  and  succeeded  in  faintly  realizing',  what  it 
will  be,  by  and  by,  to  find  yourself  in  heaven  ?  We 
read.  There  was  silence  in  heaven  about  the  space  of 
half  an  hour.  The  first  half-hour  there,  to  you,  to 
me,  if  we  reach  there,  will  be,  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned, methinks,  the  silence  of  unutterable  amaze- 
ment. Amazement  and  gratitude  that  we  are  indeed 
there. 

Has  some  friend  of  thine,  the  servant  of  God,  gone 


856  HEAVEN. 

there  ?  And  do  you  mourn  for  him  ;  mourn  that  he 
is  in  heaven  ;  mourn  that  he  went  there  too  soon  ? 
And  would  you  disturb  him  if  you  could,  dislodge  him 
if  you  could,  and  bring  him  down  from  that  society, 
that  you  may  again  enjoy  his  presence  ?  Would  you 
do  it,  or  let  him  stay  where  he  is  ;  and  bless  God  for 
the  evidence  of  being  ready  thy  friend  gave,  and  thy 
God  ratified,  when  he  took  him  and  made  him  one  of 
his  own  jewels  ? 

Have  you  a  hope  of  heaven,  expecting  to  be  there? 
And  how  is  it  with  you  ?  Are  you  all  captivated  with 
this  world,  carried  away  with  its  fascinations,  buried 
up  in  its  cares,  covered  and  defiled  with  its  sweat  and 
its  dust  ?  It  is  not  right,  not  fitting.  Beware,  or  you 
come  short.  See  to  it,  that  you  do  not.  See  that 
yours  is  a  heavenly  spirit,  a  heavenly  life ;  then  the 
end  shall  be  heavenly,  glorious. 

My  hearers,  do  you  believe  in  that  world,  that  place, 
the  heaven  of  the  Bible  ?  That  is  infinitely  brighter 
and  richer  than  the  one  I  have  described.  Mine  all 
dim  and  low  and  mean  in  the  comparison  ;  the  reality, 
as  God  has  made  it,  more  glorious  and  precious  than 
language  can  utter,  or  the  mind  can  know.  You 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  that.  Have  you  done 
any  thing  worthy  to  obtain  a  title  to  it,  a  home  therein  ? 
Is  there  one  here,  before  hesitating  and  lingering,  now 
ready  to  rise  up  and  try  for  it,  in  God's  name  and 
strength  ?  Run,  wrestle,  for  that  crown.  Strive,  agon- 
ize, to  enter  into  that  glory.  That  Eye  that  sees  us  all, 
sees  it  one  such  ? 


XXXT. 

THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

For  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  be  revealed 
in  us.  —  Romans  viii.  18. 

*"  I  ""HE  same  apostle  speaks  in  a  similar  strain  in  his 
-*-  second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians.  For  our  light 
affliction,  which  is  hut  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  afar 
more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory. 

The  present  is  a  state  of  afflictions  and  trials.  They 
fall  somewhere  ;  they  come  at  some  time.  The  apostle, 
in  the  context,  represents  the  entire  world,  as  in  a 
burdened  and  suffering  condition ;  not  only  Christians, 
but  all  men ;  not  only  the  rational  creation,  but  the 
irrational,  and  even  the  inanimate.  For  we  know,  he 
says,  that  the  whole  creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in 
pain  together  until  now.  And  not  only  they,  hut  ourselves 
also,  which  have  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  even  we  our- 
selves groan  ivithin  ourselves,  ivaiting  for  the  adoption,  to 
wit,  the  redemption  of  our  hody.  In  the  text  the  apostle 
speaks  of  sufferings  here  ;  of  a  glory  to  be  revealed  ; 
and  of  the  comparison  between  the  two. 

I.  The  first  thought  presented  is  the  sufferings  of  this 
present  tiine.  There  may  be  here  a  reference  to  the 
peculiar  tribulations  of  Christians  in  that  cruel  and 


358       THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

porsecuting  age.  But  the  language  is  no  more  con- 
fined to  tliat  period  than  the  sufferings  of  Christians : 
as  I  have  said,  tliey  are  the  lot  of  all  time.  There 
are,  first,  the  sufferings  peculiar  to  the  Christian  char- 
acter and  experience.  As  the  disciple  of  Christ  has 
joys  with  which  the  stranger  intermeddleth  not,  he  has 
sorrows  which  the  mere  worldly  mind  has  no  experience 
of.  His  sufferings  from  the  presence  and  working  of 
sin  within  are  often  keen,  sometimes  overwhelming. 
He  is  not  yet  delivered  from  sin,  but  he  hates  it, 
watches  and  prays  against  it ;  and,  if  endowed  with 
the  Spirit  of  the  Master,  he  will  resist  it  even  unto  blood. 
There  is  suffering  in  these  conflicts,  these  wrestlings, 
with  the  enemy ;  and  if  sin  gets  the  advantage,  as  it 
sometimes  does,  and  he  is  thrown  down  and  defiled, 
there  is  greater  suffering  still.  David  calls  it  the  an- 
guish of  broken  bones ;  occasionally,  even  the  agony 
of  a  broken  spirit ;  all  this,  because  he  is  a  Christian 
of  so  decided  attainments,  that  sin  has  become  to  him 
the  greatest  possible  evil  and  offence.  The  Christian 
sometimes  suffers  from  the  assaults  of  Satan.  We 
know  that  Christ's  sufferings  from  this  quarter  were 
very  great ;  no  greater  came  upon  him,  save  those 
connected  with  the  scene  of  the  crucifixion.  As  it 
was  with  the  Lord,  so  it  will  be  with  the  disciple. 
The  great  enemy  will  assail  him,  and  turn,  for  a 
season,  all  the  springs  of  his  happiness  into  waters  of 
wormwood. 

There  are  sufferings  to  the  Christian,  from  an 
opposing,  not  to  say  persecuting,  world.  The  world 
does  not  love  the  pure  gospel  of  Christ,  but  dislikes  it 
for  its  claims,  its  restrictions,  its  penalties.  And  those 
who  have  professed  it  have,  in  times  past,  encountered 


THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY.        359 

all  the  ills  human  malice  could  dispense.  Tliey  have 
had  trials  of  cruel  mocking-s  and  scourg-ing-s,  7/ea,  more- 
over, of  bonds  and  imprisonment.  They  have  been 
stoned;  they  have  been  saivn  asunder ;  tempted,  slain 
with  the  sword;  all  the  instruments  and  engines  of 
death  have  been  often  employed,  and  their  utmost 
capabilities,  in  the  work  of  torture,  have  been  ex- 
hausted upon  the  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Multi- 
tudes, in  these  periods,  have  tested  the  whole  fearful 
meaning  of  the  declaration,  that  we  must  through  much 
tribulation,  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  But  there 
is  a  more  refined  persecution  which  strikes  not  the 
body,  —  the  taunt,  the  sneer,  the  shaft  of  ridicule,  the 
uttered  blasphemy  wounding  the  soul.  Christ's  say- 
ing has  been  verified  in  every  period  of  the  Church, 
that  a  marl's  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own  household. 
And  perhaps  no  suffering  for  the  cause  of  the  Master 
can  exceed  that  of  those  who  cannot  be  Christians, 
with  toleration,  at  home ;  who  have  not  only  no  sym- 
pathy there  in  their  best  hopes  and  joys,  but  even 
forfeit  affection,  and  are  subjected  to  an  outbreaking 
opposition  and  an  unnatural  hate  from  those  most 
dear  to  them,  simply  because  they  love  the  Saviour  and 
choose  to  keep  his  words. 

The  Christian,  in  some  instances,  suffers  intensely 
from  the  fluctuations  of  experience.  The  light  is 
withdrawn  from  him,  and  hope  is  almost  extinct,  and 
there  comes  over  him  the  dreary  sense  of  divine 
abandonment.  He  feels,  in  his  measure,  as  Christ 
did  when  he  exclaimed,  My  God,  my  G-od,  ichy  hast 
thou  forsaken  me?  Or  much  as  David  did,  when  he 
uttered  those  dismal  interrogatives :  Will  the  Lord 
cast  off  for  ever  ?  and  will  he  be  favorable  no  more  ?  Is 


360        THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever?  doth  his  promise  fail  for 
evermore?  hath  God  forgotten  to  be  gracious?  hath  he 
in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercies  ?  And  he  may  add 
with  the  psalmist,  This  is  my  infirmity.  It  is  his  in- 
firmity,—  a  mysterious  disease  reaching  to  the  seats,  and 
rudely  sweeping  all  the  chords  of  feeling ;  or,  operating 
as  an  iron  shutter  to  all  the  windows  of  the  soul,  to  keep 
from  the  imprisoned  tenant  the  descending  beams  of 
day,  so  that  every  thing  is  shrouded  in  gloom.  The 
prayer  attempted  seems  all  heartless  and  scattering,  a 
mockery  to  the  great  Being  addressed ;  the  hope  long 
cherished,  a  baseless  delusion ;  God  appears  only  as 
awful  in  justice  and  holiness ;  Christ,  only  as  the 
armed  and  avenging  king ;  the  Comforter,  as  the  grieved 
and  banished  spirit ;  death,  the  personification  and  em- 
bodiment of  all  conceivable,  terrors.  Such  the  work- 
ing of  the  infirmity,  and  the  anguish  in  such  a  case. 
Who  but  the  sufferer  knows.it?  But  the  sufferings  thus 
far  described  are  those  peculiar  to  the  Christian  faith 
and  profession. 

There  is  another  class  I  will  advert  to,  —  those  of  a 
providential  nature.  With  these  the  Christian  is 
visited  in  common  with  tlie  rest  of  mankind.  Equally 
with  others  he  is  exposed  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
world  ;  to  the  defeating  of  earthly  plans  and  hopes  ;  to 
the  evils  and  deep  distresses  of  a  remediless  poverty. 
Even  the  Son  of  man  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 
There  are  also  the  sufferings  arising  from  sickness  and 
decay.  These,  at  some  time,  in  some  form,  all  must 
encounter.  If  any  have  lived  years  without  feeling 
the  wilting  hand  of  disease  upon  them,  let  them  be 
thankful,  and  not  presume  that  it  will  always  be  so. 
The  Christian  may  have  great  consolation  in  the  sea- 


THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY.       361 

SOU  of  his  trial,  but  he  caunot  escape  it.  Not  that 
God  afflicts  williugly,  but  he  has  kind  purposes  to  be 
answered  by  the  laying  on  of  the  stroke.  Sometimes 
it  seems  as  though  the  Christian  were  more  certain 
than  others  to  suffer  in  this  mode.  Not  unfrequently 
do  we  see  the  ungodly  and  profane  passing  quietly  out 
of  life,  having  no  hands  in  their  death  ;  whilst  others, 
eminent  for  holiness,  linger  and  wear  out  by  the 
simple  force  and  process  of  tormenting  pain.  God's 
reasons  for  so  doing  we  will  not  undertake  to  pene- 
trate. It  may  be  to  show  the  power  of  godliness,  the 
sustaining  energy  of  the  Christian's  hope.  It  may  be 
a  discipline,  the  kindling  of  a  fire  to  purge  away  the 
remaining  dross  of  sin.  It  may,  in  part,  be  a  chas- 
tisement ;  light  strokes  administered  in  a  momentary 
but  corrective  displeasure  for  some  offences  or  neg- 
lects which  cannot  be  passed  wholly  by.  Whatever 
the  cause,  the  sufferings  are  sometimes  great.  The 
Christian's  death-bed,  while  it  may  be  a  place  of  in- 
ward peace  or  positive  triumph,  the  last  struggles  of 
a  crowning  victory,  may  also  be  a  place  in  which  cen- 
tre the  sharpest  piercings,  and  over  which  roll  the 
heaviest  billows  of  pain.  There  are  the  sufferings 
attendant  on  bereavement,  the  removal  by  death  of 
beloved  friends.  The  cords  of  attachment  grow 
strong,  and  very  closely  bind  heart  to  heart.  The 
parental,  the  filial,  the  fraternal,  the  conjugal  tie  seems 
often  to  pass  around  and  encompass  every  other  joy ; 
and,  when  sundered,  it  is  as  though  every  thing  were 
taken.  The  circumstances,  perhaps,  all  administer  to 
the  heart's  deep  anguish.  He  sunk  down  amid  stran- 
gers ;  he  sleeps  in  a  foreign  grave,  or  on  the  coral  bed  ; 
a  favorite  child,  perhaps,  who  died  and  gave  no  evi- 


362       THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

dence  that  he  was  prepared.  The  Christian  knows 
that  it  is  all  right,  even  wisely  and  kindly  done;  but, 
he  feels  the  cleaving  stroke,  and  in  the  fresh  intensity 
of  his  sorrow,  in  the  first  tumult  of  his  grief,  does  not 
realize  the  assuaging  power  of  tiie  divine  considera- 
tions. He  dwells  only  upon  what  he  has  lost.  His 
memory  recurs,  and  fixes  with  a  mournful  tenacity 
upon  those  objects  which  are  the  most  directly  fitted 
to  harrow  still  more  the  already  torn  and  bleeding 
sensibilities.  The  room,  the  seat,  the  loved  one  occu- 
pied ;  all  the  little  arrangements  as  he  left  them ;  the 
books  as  he  marked  and  laid  them  away  ;  the  garments 
where  he  hung  them ;  the  trees  those  hands  did  plant ; 
the  ground  those  feet  did  tread,  —  each  is  made  to  con- 
tribute its  pang  in  the  ministry  of  grief,  till  the  heart 
can  hold  no  more ;  till,  in  its  paroxysms,  it  swells  and 
heaves  almost  to  bursting.  Such  the  anguish  of  be- 
reavement, sometimes,  before  religion  has  had  time  to 
soothe  by  its  healing  appliance. 

I  will  not  dwell  longer  upon  the  sufferings  of  this 
present  time,  but  turn,  in  the  second  place,  to  that  other 
and  contrasted  scene. 

II.  The  glory  which  shall  he  revealed  in  us.  And 
what  can  we  say  here?  The  sufferings  are  matters 
of  experience ;  the  glory,  now  known  in  part,  of  faith. 
The  nature  of  it  admits  of  no  literal  disclosure ;  nor 
can  we,  as  yet,  bear  an  open  manifestation.  Mortal 
eye  cannot  behold,  nor  ear  hear,  nor  heart  conceive 
the  things  tohich  Grod  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love 
him.  The  spirit  of  inspiration,  tasking  language  to 
its  utmost,  can  only  sliadow  forth  the  coming  blessed- 
ness of  the  Christian.  It  is  a  glory  that  shall  he  revealed 
in  us,  a  glory  in  the  presence  of  God,  the  glorious  liberty 


THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY.        363 

of  the  children  of  Crod,  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight 
of  glory.  Here  we  have  Paul's  magnificent  and  labor- 
ing utterance  ;  hyperbole  upon  hyperbole,  literally  a 
greatness  excessively  exceeding,  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  We  are  also  told  of  the 
life,  the  eternal  life,  the  croivn  of  life;  of  an  inherit- 
ance incorruptible  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away ;  of  an  enduring  substajice ;  a  kingdom  which  can- 
not be  moved;  a  building  not  made  with  hands,  eternal 
in  the  heavens.  Christians  are  to  tvalk  in  white;  they 
are  to  reign  with  Christ ;  they  are  to  have  bodies 
fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious  body.  These  various 
modes  of  description  are,  obviously,  intended  to  set 
forth  to  our  minds  a  state  of  great  exaltation  and 
happiness.  That  state  is  the  Christian's  sure  posses- 
sion ;  toward  it  he  is  borne  on  the  swift  wings  of  time  ; 
a  state  in  which  there  will  be  no  sin,  none  of  these 
sufferings  and  conflicts  and  bitter  mournings ;  where 
all  tears  will  be  wiped  away,  all  trials  merged  in  tri- 
umphs ;  a  state  of  renewed  intercourse  with  redeemed 
friends,  and  high  companionship  with  saints  and 
angels  ;  a  state  of  enlarging  and  striding  knowledge, 
where  we  shall  be  like  Sim  ;  for  ive  shall  see  Him  as  he 
is ;  when  we  shall  knoiv  as  also  we  are  known ;  a  state 
in  which  love  will  be  perfected  and  all-pervading  and 
all-blessing  with  its  hallowed  intensity.  But  why 
attempt  to  describe  that  state,  that  glory  ivhich  shall  be 
revealed,  when  all  our  attempts  are  futile,  and  we  can 
only  retreat  upon  Paul's  doubled  hyperbole,  and  gain 
a  little  relief  to  our  minds  in  the  use  of  his  masterly 
superlatives  ?  —  crying  out,  and  wondering  as  we  re- 
peat, a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  tveight  of  glory. 
III.  Having  considered  some  of  the  sufferings,  and 


364       THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

glanced  at  the  glory,  hereafter,  we  might  pause,  in  the 
third  place,  long  enough  to  institute  a  comparison 
between  the  two.  But  there  is  no  comparison  of  a 
momentary  sorrow  with  an  infinite  and  eternal  joy. 
The  Apostle  thought  so  amid  the  heavy  trials  of  his 
lot,  charged  as  he  was  with  an  unwonted  responsi- 
bility, carrying  about  with  him  that  dread  infirmity, 
surrounded  with  enemies,  traduced,  beaten,  killed  all 
the  day  long.  The  sufferings  were  present  and  almost 
without  a  parallel  in  Christian  endurance ;  the  glory 
future,  and  apprehended  only  by  faith.  He  weighed 
the  matter,  he  calculated  carefully,  he  balanced  the 
account ;  and  this  was  his  settled  judgment:  I  reckon, 
I  account,  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  he  compared  with  the  glory  which  shall  he  re- 
vealed in  us.  And  can  any  one  hesitate  in  coming  to 
the  same  conclusion?  "We  might  refer  the  question 
to  one  of  far  feebler  faith  and  in  deeper  trouble,  one 
on  whom  the  hand  of  affliction  was  pressing  most 
heavily,  and  the  glory  seemed  dim  and  far  away. 
The  affliction  for  a  moment,  the  felicity  eternal.  The 
affliction  light,  the  glory  unmeasured  in  weight  and 
worth.  Can  the  depressed  and  most  sorrowing  heart 
hesitate  in  the  judgment,  not  worthy  to  he  compared'/ 
Suppose  we  pass  to  the  other  side  of  the  scale,  and  put 
the  question  to  one  of  those  spirits  before  the  throne, 
who  have  come  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed 
their  rohes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  hlood  of  the 
Lamh.  Be  the  umpire  one  who  encountered  every 
form  and  variety  of  earthly  trial ;  the  direst  malig- 
nancy of  persecution  ;  the  most  desolating  strokes  of 
bereavement ;  the  tortures  of  a  racked  and  groaning 
body  and  the  still  keener  anguish  of  a  wounded  spirit. 


THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY.        365 

That  spirit,  thus  tossed  and  troubled,  is  now  resting 
in  the  embrace  of  infinite  and  protecting  love.  That 
heart,  which  at  times  drooped  beneath  the  weight  of 
its  sorrows,  now  swells  with  the  fulness  of  unutterable 
joys.  It  has  felt  its  last  pang  ;  now  it  is  jjcrfect  peace. 
Thus  that  purified  intelligence  has  tried  both  sides ; 
has  had  experience  of  the  sorest  sufferings  of  time, 
and  the  opening  and  growing  blessedness  of  eternity. 
Ask  him  his  judgment,  and  what  think  you  he  would 
say  ?  As  he  looked  down  upon  this  little  point  and 
speck  of  trouble,  and  as  he  thought  of  the  immeasur- 
able felicities  of  his  present  and  secured  immortality, 
what  would  he  say  ?  He  would  say,  with  the  utmost 
reach  of  language  and  strength  of  emphasis, —  and  all 
the  redeemed  would  join  in  and  peal  forth  their  intense 
agreement,  till  those  eternal  pillars  should  tremble 
with  the  utterance,  —  not  worthy  to  he  compared. 

IV.  But,  though  there  is  no  comparison,  there  is  a 
connection,  between  the  present  suffering  and  the 
coming  glory.  Let  me  now  remark  upon  the  benefi- 
cent nature  and  working  of  this  connection.  We  see 
in  it  the  blessed  hand  of  God,  here,  as  everywhere, 
bringing  good  out  of  evil,  plucking  from  the  very 
jaws  of  sorrow  a  shining  tribute  of  joy  ;  all  things, 
all  trials,  all  bitter  pangs,  made  to  work  for  good. 
These  afflictions,  when  the  mind  comes  out  from 
them  ascendant,  work  into  the  character  an  element 
of  strength  and  assurance,  a  conscious  supremacy  over 
the  assailments  of  trial  and  evil ;  producing  a  character 
that  has  met  the  storm,  and  now  firmer  stands  for  the 
blasts  it  has  successfully  sustained  ;  a  character  refined 
and  made  purer  by  the  fire,  and  more  shining  from  the 
rough  and  hard  attritions.     These  light  afflictions^  by 


366        THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

■working  these  things  in  us,  work  out  for  us  that  far 
more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  ;  mightier  for 
these  light  afflictions.  So,  also,  the  future  glory  gives 
strength  to  bear  the  present  trial.  That  coming  glory, 
let  it  shine  back  and  put  to  shame  and  silence  every 
rising  murmur.  If  ever  tempted  to  say,  or  even  feel, 
that  God  is  unkind  in  putting  upon  you  so  great  a 
trial  as  has  come  upon  you,  pause  long  enough  to 
think  of  the  glory,  and  especially  of  the  sacrifices,  he 
has  made  to  open  your  path  unto  it.  God  unkind,  that 
he  did  not  spare  you  that  visitation,  when  he  spared 
not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all  ?  God 
unkind  in  the  discipline  he  employs  to  cleanse  your 
soul,  and  fit  it  for  that  high  state  ?  Look  up,  and 
think  again  of  the  glory,  and  you  will  discover  in  all 
nothing  but  a  Father's  solicitude,  and  an  overflowing 
goodness.  If  ever  ready  to  faint  and  give  over,  say- 
ing. All  these  things  are  against  me  ;  every  event  an 
adversity  ;  every  new  scene  a  trial,  —  remember  still  to 
look  up,  and  think  of  the  glory,  and  gather  from  above 
strength  and  courage,  and  so  hold  on  your  way,  ever 
struggling  to  reach  the  goal  and  gain  the  prize.  Then 
all  these  things,  here  so  much  dreaded,  will  prove 
helpers  to  your  deliverance,  added  gems  to  your  crown, 
new  richness  and  sweetness  in  the  cup  of  your  blessed- 
ness. There  is  another  thing  I  will  suggest,  that  while 
the  future  glory  gives  strength  to  bear  tlie  present 
trial,  the  present  trial  in  turn  will  heighten  the  fruition 
of  the  future  glory.  I  have  said  no  comparison  can  be 
instituted  ;  but  there  is  a  contrast  which  the  delivered 
soul  will  feel,  so  sudden,  so  perfect,  as  to  fill  it  with 
wonder.  Mark  that  weary  disciple,  who  had  a  long 
and  sorrowing  experience  ;    whose  sensibilities  were 


THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY.        367 

mostly  ministers  of  pain  ;  whose  clayey  tabernacle  was 
often  turned  into  a  prison  by  thick  and  brooding  infir- 
mities ;  whose  faith  was  small  and  his  fears  frequent ; 
conflicts,  doubts,  sufferings,  for  years  his  bosom  com- 
panions, till  he  seemed  to  cling  to  them,  as  tliough 
they  were  his  inheritance.  Tlie  hour  of  redemption 
at  length  arrives ;  the  submerging  waters  are  past ; 
and,  in  an  instant,  the  celestial  glory  stands  all  re- 
vealed. As  the  darkness  settles  heavily  here,  the  light 
opens  transportingly  there  ;  and,  as  the  body  is  sending 
out  the  last  moaning  sounds  of  death,  the  spirit  begins 
to  hear,  and  even  join  in,  those  heavenly  melodies. 
To  such  an  one,  —  to  one  coming  out  of  that  tribulation, 
rising  above  those  billows,  parting  for  ever  with  those 
pains  and  glooms  and  labors,  but  remembering  them 
all,  —  how  refreshing  must  be  that  rest;  how  sweet 
that  peace  ;  how  glorious  that  triumph  ;  how  immeas- 
urably heightened  all  that  joyous  possession  and  ex- 
perience, by  the  scenes  which  have  been  gone  througli. 
We  are  lost  here  ;  we  know  but  little.  Blessed  shall 
we  be,  if  we  reach  that  state,  and  learn  by  experience 
the  riches  and  the  mysteries  of  its  glory.  We  see 
here  the  firm  ground  for  the  grace  of  patience.  How 
lovely  is  this  grace  ;  how  desirable  that  we  possess  it ; 
that  it  grow  stronger ;  that  there  be  put  into  it  firm 
nerves  and  sinews,  so  that  we  be  able  to  bear  the 
afflictions  we  cannot  shun ;  not  only  the  momentary, 
but  those  wearying  burdens  which  can  only  be  laid 
down  with  the  burden  of  our  mortality.  Happy  those 
who  thus  endure  to  the  end,  and  show,  through  all, 
the  patience  of  the  saints. 

Li  conclusion,  we  cannot  fail  to  see,  that  every  thing 
iu  God's  providence,  and  in  the  Book  he  has  given  us, 


368        THE  SUFFERINGS  AND  THE  GLORY. 

goes  to  diminish  the  present,  and  to  heighten  and 
greaten  what  is  to  come.  If  now  these  are  light  afflic- 
tions ;  these  joys  of  sense  are  light  joys ;  these  pos- 
sessions of  time  are  shadowy  and  vain  possessions,  — 
oh,  how  small  and  mean  to  be  set  as  the  supreme 
object  of  pursuit  to  those  made  in  the  image  and  for 
the  service  of  God ;  and  how  these  things  will  look, 
in  the  retrospect  of  a  lost  eternity.  If  lost,  you  will 
see  them  then  as  the  price  of  your  soul.  You  will 
know  that  you  bartered  heaven  for  that  now  perished 
baseness.  You  will  behold  it  in  the  distance,  a  float- 
ing trifle,  a  dim,  receding  speck,  and  yet  it  was  the 
price  of  your  soul.  Bear  in  mind,  that  soon  you  will 
leave  the  little  things,  the  gildings,  the  baubles,  the 
vanities,  and  go  forth  to  the  substantial,  the  weighty, 
the  eternal.  Awake,  watch,  strive,  or  this  lying  world 
will  work  out  for  you,  and  lay  upon  you,  a  dreadful 
burden,  —  the  burden  of  your  Maker's  curse,  because 
you  would  not  heed  his  counsel,  and  embrace  his  Sou. 
You  will  lie  under  it  for  ever,  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  infamy  and  misery. 


THE   END. 


Csmbridge :  Printed  by  John  Wilson  and  Son. 


Date  Due 

»4r-^ 

^ 

9 

'■^ 


F 


-■   * 


